Girl From North Country
by Jezebel Night
Summary: Amanda Burke and Gear Thompson are old friends separated through their decisions. Gear has joined SAMCRO and is a valued member of the club. Amanda is the daughter of a fallen member who isolates herself from her family and spends all of her time working as a paramedic with her newfound friends. When chaos ensues, their paths cross, and nothing good comes of it.
1. Welcome To Charming

**Amanda**

"No fucking way" Amanda laughed, throwing a fry at Bradley in the passenger seat.

"I'm serious" he caught the fry, eating it with glee, "Robert Redford was in the Godfather series!"

"No, he wasn't." She rolled her eyes, stretching in her seat momentarily, her foot pressing harder on the accelerator as she did.

"Yes, he was, he played Tom, the lawyer" Bradley shoved more fries in his mouth, and then made a goofy face with them.

"You're a dork," Amanda pulled fry from his mouth and ate it, "and an idiot. That wasn't Robert Redford."

"Coming from the chick that's never seen the movies," he mumbled around the mass of mushy fries in his mouth.

"I said I didn't watch part 3, not the whole series."

"Prove it" he swallowed the mass loudly and obnoxiously.

"Quiz me," Amanda smiled, taking a sharp turn onto the highway, horns sounding after her.

"Who betrayed Michael?"

"Lots of people, I'm going to need specifics."

"Okay," he paused while rubbing his chin in his usual dramatic fashion. "Who betrayed Michael to Hyman Roth?"

Amanda scoffed, "Fredo, his own brother."

"Okay so who was the FBI's witness in his trial?"

"Frank Pentangeli."

"What happened when he testified?"

"He perjured himself to the court, said he made up the whole thing."

"Why?"

"Michael brought his brother all the way from Italy."

"And why would that matter?"

"Some Italian code that basically says keep your mouth shut or die. Since he didn't stay quiet, he had to die."

"So, who killed him?"

"He did it himself as a way to make up for his mistakes and spare his family from shame."

"Okay, what about-" Bradley was saying when they suddenly heard a loud explosion. Amanda immediately stopped the car, the brakes screeching loudly as the tires scraped across the pavement. Her hands gripped the wheel tightly, her breaths coming fast as she investigated Bradley's confused, terrified expression. He wasn't looking at her, his eyes strayed past her.

"You okay-" she was asking when another loud explosion sounded through the air. Her hands came up to her ears, her body clenching in reaction to the sound. When the sound continued she looked to where it was coming from. A huge, bright blaze filled up the sky and the sharp, piercing sound hit her eardrums once more. Her hands pressed themselves tighter over her ears, but nothing could dull the sound the explosion left behind.

"Holy shit," Bradley sat straight up in his seat, his terrified eyes wide with shock.

"Please tell me that's not-" Amanda was saying when loud popping sounds followed sounded off into the silence.

"Someone blew up the warehouse," Bradley said in flat, shocked tone, "and you said tonight was going be dull."

"Fuck," Amanda responded, grabbing the walkie for the stereo.

"Calling all responders, 79 from EMS speaking, the warehouse on the edge of town is on fire, possibly from an explosion, we need to get fire there immediately, and another EMS unit, stat."

She placed the walkie back in its holder as she slammed her foot on the accelerator. A voice responded from the speaker box, "Fire has been dispatched, 82 are you near the area?"

"82 in route," Amanda heard Justin's voice through the speaker, a fellow paramedic that Amanda knew well. "Does anyone know what caused the explosion?"

Amanda didn't bother responding this time, her focus was on getting to the warehouse as quickly as possible while trying to tune out the onslaught of sounds coming from the warehouse. Bradley grabbed the walkie, "Negative Ghost Rider. We just saw it happen when we were driving down 5th avenue."

"Okay, we're 5 minutes out," Justin responded one last time, and then nothing as there was a sharp click, and the sound cut off.

As Amanda raced towards the warehouse, Bradley reached to the back and Amanda could hear him pulling things off the shelves, making a mess in his rush. He finished his search in seconds, holding his neon yellow warning shirt in shaking hands. "You want yours?" he asked as he pulled it over his head and buttoned it in place.

"Don't waste your time with that, get the vests."

"Where are they," he asked, swiftly pulling off the awful neon.

"In the bench compartment," Amanda responded curtly, jostling them around with the plethora of bumps she was racing through. Bradley reached back, stretching his body as far it could go so he didn't have to leave his seat. Once he had them he threw one to Amanda, who narrowly missed the turn towards the warehouse when she tried to catch it. It lay forgotten on the ground as she raced down the dirt road, and Bradley took deep breaths to calm down his breathing, preparing for what was to come.

They pulled up as close to the warehouse as safely possible. The sight before them was terrifying, the popping sounds louder and more dangerous due to their proximity. The wooden structure was completely engulfed in flames. Amanda opened the driver's side door but didn't get all the way out, the heat immediately stunning her as it contacted her exposed skin. She stood on her seat and used the door to steady her as she looked at the bright orange flames in an odd amazement.

"What are you doing?! Get back inside!" Bradley was yelling from the safety of his seat, grabbing the back of her pants in a firm grip and tugging roughly. She went with him in the nick of time. The truck was hit with a round of bullets. The driver's side window was shattered, and a searing pain suddenly appeared on her right side near her rib cage. The pair ducked their heads out of the way as the onslaught continued. Amanda, ignoring the pain, used her body to cover Bradley's head. She put the car in reverse and backed away from the scene in a blind panic.

Bradley screamed as the car continued its backward pursuit, and Amanda was on the verge of joining him. She didn't stop until she heard sirens vastly approaching, and instantly slammed her foot on the break. Her reaction threw their bodies hard against the bottom of the dashboard. Amanda felt another sharp pain in her left shoulder just as Bradley's screams kicked up an octave before stopping altogether. The sudden stop knocked him unconscious, and Amanda immediately started tending to him, pushing the pain out of her mind.

The sound of the sirens grew astronomically, and just as Amanda braved a look up she saw the fire truck rushing past them, quickly followed by another fire truck, multiple vehicles from the Sheriff's department, and the only other EMS unit on duty tonight. She distantly saw Justin through his windshield before returning her attention to Bradley, who showed no signs of movement.

"Brad," she said in a worried tone. The tightness in her chest made it hard to breathe. Her fingers felt around his head. The tightness eased when she didn't feel any wetness, just dry hair follicles. She had just found a bump starting to form near his right temple when the passenger door opened. It was Grady, Justin's partner.

His normally wild, curly brown hair was tied back in a bun, showing off his handsome face to full effect. His dark eyes were scared when he saw Bradley on Amanda's lap. She distinctly heard her month-long door open when Grady started talking.

"What happened," his voice was steady, but his tone failed to hide his fear as he climbed in to survey Bradley.

"He was knocked out when we were pulling back from the scene."

"You and your crazy driving," Amanda heard Justin mumble as he placed a gentle hand on her left shoulder. She winced as she turned to look into his hazel eyes. He noticed her grimace as he gently guided her out of the truck. He placed his hands on her head and started feeling around for any bumps.

"How close were you when your truck was shot?"

Amanda gestured to the tree. "We stopped a few feet before the tree. There was no way we were close enough for this to happen." Her voice shook as she responded to Justin's question.

His hands moved to survey her arms, his fingers kneading their way through her muscles as he kept a close eye on her face.

"Is anything hurting?" He asked as his hands moved down to her rib cage, and though Amanda expected it, the pain from his gentle contact still made her wince. Her body instinctively pulled away, and his calm demeanor started to break. Just as he moved forward to investigate Amanda's wound, Grady's voice came from the truck.

"Justin!"

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Bradley's fine! We're coming around." He suddenly appeared with a very groggy Bradley around the front of the truck, and Amanda sighed in relief and then winced from the pain in her side. Bradley stayed at the engine, glaring at Amanda as Grady came forward with a flashlight.

"We need to check you out. I saw blood in your seat, and not the once a month womanly kind." Grady stared pointedly at Amanda. She rolled her eyes at his comment but otherwise gave no response.

"Let me see," Justin asked, not waiting for an answer when Grady shined the light on her torso.

At first, he merely looked at the entryway to assess the damage, and then he started to unbutton her shirt when the bloodstain continued to grow.

"You were shot" Justin confirmed as he got a closer look at her wound once the navy-blue color of her uniform was out of the way.

"Yeah," Amanda conceded, knowing it was useless to lie at this point. "It happened right before we pulled away."

"We need to get you, both of you, to the hospital right away."

"We can't, there's no one else on duty tonight, and we have to stay here for the firefighters. What happens if one of them goes down and we're not here to help them?"

"You need to get this checked out." Grady's worried tone touched Amanda, but it wasn't enough to sway her.

"It looks like a through and through" Justin murmured, lifting the white tank top carefully as he continued his inspection. "Grady look inside and see if you can find a stray bullet. Start on Bradley's side."

"On it" he quickly ran out of sight.

"Brad, you doing okay," Justin asked his tone all business.

"You're a horrible driver" Bradley complained, still glaring at Amanda. Her response was flipping the bird, and he responded in kind.

"Stop fucking around" Justin ordered as his tone grew annoyed, "grab the peroxide and bandages from my bag."

Bradley took his time but did as ordered by Justin. He was not amused by Bradley's attitude in the slightest. He took the supplies and started disinfecting Amanda's wound. His hazel eyes were calculating, yet firm. His handsome, sun-kissed face crinkled in concerned. His plump lips pursed in concentration. His calloused hands soaked the fabric of the gauze pad, briefly looking up at Amanda and said, "Sorry" before pressing it firmly against the wound.

Her hands fisted, expletives spewing from her mouth as her entire body tensed in pain from the peroxide. Justin looked apologetic but refused to stop all the same. He kept the pad in place as he started unwrapping the gauze and bandages. Bradley stepped in, grabbed the gauze, and started wrapping Amanda as Justin started picking up the wrappings from the ground.

"How's the head?"

"Hurts," his response was clipped, "how's the wound?"

"Burns" she responded in an equally clipped. From the corner of her eye, Bradley smirked as he finished wrapping her torso.

Justin suddenly stood, looking concerned.

"I'm okay, Justin." Amanda placed her right hand reassuringly on his shoulder, and it seemed to appease him to a point. Her left shoulder was starting to hurt, but she wasn't about to let that stop her. If Justin knew she had more than a gunshot wound, he'd force her to go to the hospital now. No questions asked. Thankfully, he didn't notice her deception and relaxed a degree.

"Once they call it, you're going to the hospital to get checked out. That's an order."

"Aye aye, captain" she saluted, and she earned a glare in return.

"It's sergeant to you, and if you're going to salute me then do it right."

"Yes sir" she corrected herself and winked at him. He rolled his eyes but smirked all the same.

"Grady, have you found anything yet?" Justin shouted.

"Just this," something flew out of the truck and Justin caught it with ease. When he held up the object his appeased mood quickly changed to one of anger. It was Amanda's bulletproof vest; the one Bradley tried to give her on their way to the warehouse. She grimaced at the sight of it, gingerly grabbing it from Justin's firm grasp.

"Thanks" she responded, and with Bradley's hurried help, she got it on and buckled in without further disturbing her gunshot wound. Sadly, it proved to be difficult to hide the pain in her shoulder, and Justin caught it this time.

He surprised her by merely glaring at her, then shaking his head in frustration. It went on like that for a few minutes until Grady called out," I found it!" They headed towards the open door where Grady was crawling out, pinching the bullet in his gloved hand.

"It just missed the handle on Bradley's door."

"Good, now throw it out," Justin ordered, and Grady followed his order.

"Let's head over, the less we have to report the better." With that, the four of them headed over to the nearest fire truck.

On their way, Justin leaned down and said, "Don't lie to me again."

"No promises, sir" she responded without thinking about it. She grimaced when he placed a hand on her good shoulder.

"Never change" he whispered in her ear, "and I'm taking you to St. Thomas and having Tara look at you when we're done."

"Dude-" Amanda tried to argue, but his hand subtly tightened as they kept walking.

"You want to break the rules, and hide this? Then we're doing it my way. If not, I'm reporting you to HR and we'll let them decide what to do with their favorite rule breaker."

"You know they're not who I'm talking about."

"Don't care. We're doing this my way, or we can go to the hospital now, full reports and details. It's your choice, Amanda."

"You play a dirty game, Jury" Amanda grated, using the nickname he earned during his stint in the military.

"Only where friends are concerned, Hershey."

Amanda rolled her eyes. Out of all the nicknames these assholes could have given her, Hershey was the one they picked. If she hadn't been eating that stupid Hershey bar for lunch while everyone else was binge eating takeout she wouldn't be having this problem. She only had a couple dollars to spare and inventory to do. The vending machine was quick and easy and gave her time to do her job. Now due to its convenience, she was forever saddled with the stupid nickname. Justin thought it was hilarious since he was the one who gave her the nickname.

Once they made it to the scene, Amanda noticed something shiny out of the corner of her eye. She turned to look where the light came from, and as the red and blue lights continued its pattern she came to a sudden realization and cursed.

"Brad, give me a light." She asked, straying away from the group and walking towards a thicket of trees.

She heard a faint clicking sound, "Here you go" Bradley said, holding a lighter next to her face.

She slapped him across the chest, and he flinched back, yelping from the contact.

"What was that for?!"

"Flashlight, you idiot," she growled, continuing her pursuit.

A bright light suddenly shined in front of them, and Justin handed her his flashlight with a grim look.

"Thanks" she mumbled, shining it on the ground.

As expected, the light revealed tire tracks, tracks far away from the emergency responder vehicles, along with something else a bit more sinister. Amidst the tracks, she saw one of the multiple shell casings, the shiny object that the red and blue glinted off, and very distinctive footprints in the shape of cowboy boots.

"Amanda?" Grady asked tentatively from behind her. Bradley didn't say anything, but she saw him squirm in her silence.

"Who did it?" Justin asked. His voice was flat and blunt.

She turned off the flashlight, glaring into the darkness as she back away from the tracks, and back towards the first responders. As she did, she looked deep into Justin's eyes.

"The Mayans," she murmured, pushing past the guys and headings towards the warehouse and the men who risked their lives to control it and defeat it.


	2. This Life

Gear

It was worse than they thought, way worse. Gear rode with his fellow sons as they went to investigate and see what was left of the warehouse. Which, to put it bluntly, was nothing. All that was left were burnt scraps, the thick smell of smoke in the air, and an evidence gold mine for the Sheriff's department that could put them all in jail for years to come.

Gear had no words for the sight before him. His mind raced ahead of him as he thought about ways to get out of this, ways to explain the illegal activity that would no doubt be used to implicate him and his fellow brothers, ways to potentially hide the evidence so that there would be nothing to implicate them at all. Most importantly, he thought about how this could have happened. Who and what could have done this?

A light slap on his shoulder shook him out of his reverie, and he looked up to see Jax staring down at him with a look that said he was thinking along the same lines as Gear. Gear parked his bike and hooked the strap of his helmet on one of his handles, standing to his feet in the same motion. Jax started talking to him as he walked away from his bike and started headed with him towards the carnage.

"What are you thinking, Gear?" Jax asked, giving him a look as they caught up with the rest of them.

"A lot of things," Gear started to say before hesitating, pursing his lips as he thought about his answer. "Who could have done this and how come we didn't see it coming?"

"I don't know, brother. Hopefully, we'll get some answers while we're here," Jax responded, patting Gear on the back of his cut.

"There's no way we're going to be able to hide all of this from the Sheriff's department, especially when Hale catches wind of this."

"You're right let's see what Clay has to say when we're done here."

Gear nodded, and then stopped next to Tig as Jax pushed ahead to stand next to Clay. Gear watched him talk to Trammell, a fellow Sheriff in the club's pocket. He filled them in on the official version of what happened at the warehouse where the propane tanks exploded, and the unofficial version that consisted of arson based on the boot prints surrounding the compound. It was what Gear suspected, along with Tig who nodded along with Trammell's assessment.

"You boys should know that one of Charming's EMS vehicles was struck by the explosion. The driver's side was completely covered in bullet holes." Trammell said, peaking Gear's curiosity.

"Was anyone hurt?" Gear asked, causing Trammell to look at him.

"One of the paramedics received a nice bump on the head when the driver pulled away from the scene after the vehicle was struck, but other than that no injuries were reported. The driver also made a point to say that the vehicle was nowhere near enough to be struck by stray bullets from the warehouse, and I agree with her."

"Are you saying it wasn't our bullets that shot up the truck?" When Trammell nodded to Gear's question, he continued, "then what did?" Gear asked, somehow already knowing the answer.

"The Mayans," he paused, letting that sink in before continuing. "My guess is the EMS unit arrived on scene before the perpetrators were able to leave, so they used some of the guns they stole to get out without being seen." He pointed towards a thicket of trees in the distance. "Over there is where we found the most footprints, along with tire tracks and shell casings that match with the M4's. We matched it to where the EMS vehicle first stopped, and it proves our theory."

"Shit-eating Mayans" Tig growled, his fists clenching.

"It's one thing to steal our guns but using them to open fire on someone in my town is crossing a line," Clay growled, turning away from the scene and kicking some debris.

"Hate to bring more bad news, but there's something else you got to see." Gear straightened at the change in Trammell's tone, and he could see that the others didn't miss it. Clay bristled at the change in Trammell's tone, his shoulders drooping as he followed the Sheriff. He waved them over to a certain area of the explosion, moving around a couple of burnt boards to reveal a set of underground doors, quickly reaching down to open them up. The first thing Gear noticed was the strong smell of cooked, putrid flesh. Whatever hope he had of it being an animal was quickly dashed when he looked down to see what looked like two girls huddled together in the bunker. Both charred to a crisp and dead as a doornail.

Gear focused on the girls, briefly tuning out the conversation between Clay and Trammell. He'd only ever met the girls once, maybe twice beforehand, but his heart ached at the sight. Looking at them, he thought about Amanda, the one thing in this world that meant more to him than the club, than anything. He briefly closed his eyes and thanked God that she was completely against his choice to be part of this club and stayed away from him like the plague.

He couldn't stop his brain from turning towards his old fantasies, childish hopes of her being his old lady and sticking by his side. If she had been with him, accepted his life and stayed with him like Gemma did for Clay, would she have ended up like this? Like these two girls, girls that had the chance to be so much more and now because of the actions of someone else, someone who hated this club, they no longer had a future. It hurt him that Amanda essentially hated his guts and never wanted to see him again, but in moments like these, he was glad for her absence. The only thing that could be worse than her hating him was her no longer living. He'd take her burning hatred of him over that any day.

Gear tuned back into the conversation and had a sudden thought.

"Can we get the fire chief on board?" Gear found himself asking Trammell, causing the others to look at him curiously. Trammell pursed his lips as he considered Gear's request and nodded.

"He can be convinced, less paperwork that way."

"Good, get it done," Jax said, giving Trammell a few bills before turning away to follow Clay back to the bikes.

Gear held back for a second and looked at Trammell.

"The paramedics, the ones involved in the ambulance shooting, you get their names?"

Trammell started patting down his clothes, looking around for a moment before shaking his head.

'They're not on me, but I can send it to you later."

"Thanks," he nodded before catching up with the guys.

Though Gear was tempted, he refused to look back at the girls, knowing his thoughts would inevitably lead back to Amanda and the last thing he needed was to imagine her as one of them, a burned corpse with nothing except her teeth to identify her.

"Good job kid" Bobby's voice filtered through Gear's thoughts as he placed his helmet on his head.

"For what?" he asked, curiously studying Bobby's face.

"You kept your cool today, not many people respond that well with their first dead body. Keep it up." Then with a pat on the shoulder, he headed towards his bike.

Gear straddled his bike, starting it with a single kick, and waited as the rest pulled out ahead of him. He followed behind them at his usual pace, and let his thoughts roam once more about what to do in this situation. How does the club deal with the Mayans without starting a war? Throughout all the scenarios that filtered through his mind, each one ended with a bloodbath between the sons and the Mexicans. He saw Amanda's beautiful face in his mind, seeing the dead look in her bright green eyes, and he gritted his teeth, his hands clenching impossibly tighter on the handles. He wasn't going to let her be another victim, not after everything she's been through.

They made it back to the clubhouse in almost no time, but unlike the others, Gear didn't turn off his bike. He stayed on his bike for a moment, his thoughts beginning to plague him. Jax must have sensed his hesitation because he came over to stand in front of Gear. He looked up to see Jax's quizzical expression.

"You okay?"

Gear nodded subtly, but neither guy was buying it. Before he could stop himself, Gear said, "I need to see Amanda."

Jax's curiosity cleared, leaving behind a look of mutual understanding.

"We need you at church first, and as long as nothing comes up, I'll make sure you get time to see her today. Cool?"

Gear didn't respond at first, but eventually, he nodded. He turned off his bike and placed the helmet on the back seat once he dismounted.

"Alright," Jax pulled him in for a hug and led the way to the clubhouse. "So, what has little sis been up to lately?" Jax asked, and Gear smiled briefly at Jax's moniker for her.

"I'm not sure, but you know how she is, probably out doing something crazy to distract her from the monotony of everyday life."

"Yeah, like tampering with some poor kids' dirt bike and then betting on her little friend to win."

"Catching cheating boyfriends and posting videos on YouTube," Gear added, smiling more broadly.

"Oh man, that was great," Jax laughed, shaking his head at the memory. "I can't believe that idiot was stupid enough to actually try to follow her in here."

"The look on his face when we came out though was worth it."

"It truly was" Jax shook his head, lighting a cigarette and smoking it briefly before continuing. "You know, I think that was the last time she was here."

"She stopped by to drop off her friend who got in that wreck a couple months ago," Gear mentioned, knowing it was futile.

"Yeah but she never got out of the car, didn't even look at us from what I remember." Jax's eyes grew dark at his statement. "There was a time where we couldn't get rid of her, so much that she might as well have been living here. Now she only comes by to drop off friends and hide out from cheating douchebags."

Gear didn't know what to say to that, so he patted Jax on the shoulder and said, "I know, I wish things could be different, but I got to admit after what I saw today. Those two girls..." Gear didn't want to continue. He knew that if he did he would end up seeing them again and start imagining Amanda the same way.

"Yeah, it's probably best that she doesn't come around anymore, that way she doesn't get caught in the crossfire." Jax agreed. He gave Gear a small smile as took another drag from his cigarette.

A car pulled up, and for a second Gear thought his eyes were deceiving him, but when Jax started laughing and made his way towards Chibs and Half-sack, he knew that what he was seeing was true. A deer lodged in the middle of the windshield. Gear couldn't help himself and started laughing at the sight of it, just like Jax had, but the laughter didn't last long as his thoughts dwindled back towards Amanda.

Though she hated the club and nearly all the members in it, the Sons thought of her as their family. The reason why is because her father, Lachlan Burke, was a member before he was tragically killed by a drunk driver when she was 10. Even before that, she was everyone's little kid, whether they saw her as a daughter or a sister, she was family, always hanging around the clubhouse and messing with things that normally would get people killed, but not her.

Gear remembered when she had convinced him to help her rearrange the entire clubhouse, moving the bed out into the front room and the tables into the bedroom. Switching out the alcohol bottles with empty alcohol bottles she collected and filled with water while hiding the real ones in the bathroom cabinets. So much stuff was switched around and destroyed because they dropped a few of the bottles and alcohol got everywhere. It took them all day, and they collapsed on the bed, laughing hysterically at the mess they made. That was until the Sons finally walked in.

Their expressions were both terrifying and hilarious. Clay's expression was unreadable while everyone else's was shocked and surprised. At the time, despite the hilarity of the situation, Gear knew that they were in trouble. He got to his feet, and stood toe to toe with Clay, staring him dead in the eye and said, "It was my idea, not Amanda's. If anyone's going to get in trouble for this, it's me." Then he braced himself for the incoming hit. Gear had expected it from his old man, who beat him every time he saw him at home. He could take it, for Amanda, he could take anything.

However, instead of hitting him, Clay kneeled before Gear to stare eye to eye with him. "You got guts kid," patting him on the shoulder, briefly smiling before looking at Amanda on the bed who was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"So, what did you kids do?"

"Everything," Amanda had answered, jumping off the bed and into Clay's awaiting arms, holding him tight around the neck. Even when they found out about the alcohol and the glass all over the floor, they weren't in trouble, though they did have to put everything back where they found it and clean up their mess.

Those were the good times, one of the last truly happy moments before everything went to shit. A few days later Amanda was taken from the street, and Gear almost died trying to stop the men from kidnapping her. It was the first time he was shot, the bullet entering above his right knee, forever leaving a scar to remind him of his failure that day. He was only 12 when this happened, and though the Sons held no enmity towards him, he couldn't stop the guilt from flowing through him for his failure to protect his friend and the anger at the men who took her in the first place.

She was missing for a month. During that time Gear spent most of it in the hospital recuperating with Jax and Opie keeping an eye on him. When he was released, he stayed with Bobby since Michael, his father, was doing another stint in prison for beating Gear to a pulp, again. Gear still held the bruises from his most recent beating when he left the hospital from his gunshot wound 2 weeks after Amanda's kidnapping. Bobby stuck to him like glue, and for the longest time, he thought it was because they thought he was responsible for Amanda's kidnapping until he tried sneaking out one night. Tig was the one who caught him and started cursing up a storm as he dragged him to the clubhouse.

All the Sons were gathered there for a meeting, but Gear didn't know that at the time. He prepared himself for the worst, much like he did whenever he found Michael drinking away on the couch. Instead, Lachlan had stepped forward with Clay right at his back. He kneeled before Gear, much like Clay did a few days prior, and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. He didn't remember all that was said that night, but he did remember one thing, a single statement that burned itself into his mind that he remembered with perfect clarity.

"Kid, we already lost Amanda, we can't lose you too."

Apart from Amanda, no one had ever made Gear feel more accepted, more wanted in his entire life. Because of that, he made a promise to himself, a promise to join the Sons. That way he could finally belong to something, to a family.

The sound of a chainsaw startled Gear, and he noticed Chibs waving him over, his look stern. With a small sigh, he headed over to the Scotsman.

"How are you doing kid," he asked, slinging an arm over his shoulder as Jax walked away to answer the phone.

"I'm okay, but I'm going to see Amanda after we meet though."

Chibs nodded, "Good, it's been too long since we've heard from her. Now tell me what happened at the warehouse."

Gear filled him with everything he knew about the explosion and dead bodies. Chibs listened intently and never interrupted him. Gear finished up with, "Trammell said he would send us the names of the paramedics that were involved in the shooting."

"Alright, good job kid." He patted his back as he led them to the clubhouse. "Give Amanda a call before we go in; see what she's doing today."

"You know she won't answer" Gear grumbled, but Chibs was having none of it.

"Then call again after we get done. It's not rocket science."

"If I call she'll just turn off her phone."

"If she turns off her phone then go find her. If any of us are going to have any luck finding Amanda it's you."

"Yes, but it'll be a lot easier if I don't alert her to the fact that I want to see her. Better with her distracted and off guard than on full alert and mapping out potential routes in case we try to ambush her."

"Is that what happened last time you called her?" Chibs asked.

"Pretty much" Gear shrugged.

"Alright, but just be careful, kid."

"I will" Gear nodded before following Chibs into the clubhouse.


	3. Can't Run Forever

Amanda

It was a long night and an even longer morning. They stayed at the scene all night and were not allowed to leave until Sheriff Trammell showed up, took their statements about the ambulance shooting, and then cleared them to leave at 4:00 in the morning after they scoured over every inch of the ambulance, and picked up every shell casing within a 10-foot distance of the vehicle.

Thankfully, there wasn't much to find thanks to Justin's thoroughness and Bradley's OCD nature. They got everything cleaned up while Amanda and Grady kept an eye on the firefighters and the plethora of activity surrounding the fire.

Still, the vehicle was taken in for further investigation, which truly sucked for several reasons. There were no spare vehicles for them to use in the meantime, and Amanda was already on her boss's shit-list after breaking protocol last week. She and Bradley had picked up a girl who tried to commit suicide by taking pills. Unbeknownst to Amanda, she had snuck a knife into the truck and tried another attempt when Amanda was checking her heart rate on the machine. She had cut deep into her left wrist and tried to get the other one before Amanda stopped her. She threw the knife away and ordered Bradley to stop the truck. Bradley held her down as she got to work stitching up the wound, not doing a bad job considering the girl was flailing around and screaming her head off about how much she wanted to die. Amanda ignored her and finished stitching the wound. After that, Bradley helped her tie the patient down tight and eventually got them to the hospital.

Even though the surgeons on staff backed up Amanda's decision, saying that the patient would have died without Amanda's interference, she was still in trouble. Oddly enough, there was simply a dock on her paycheck and a month-long probation for the incident. Amanda never figured out why her punishment was so minor, and after a brief time, she decided she didn't want to know, somehow realizing that she'd regret asking once she found out the answer.

Even so, this was going to end up violating her probation in some way, shape or form, which meant an imminent suspension. Sure enough, once Justin carted her to the hospital in his EMS truck, she hadn't taken two steps into the place when Chelsea Darrow, her ice queen of a boss, came barreling towards her with her natural icy expression. Both Amanda and Bradley were on suspension until ballistics came back from the investigation. If the stray bullets were responsible for the damage to the vehicle, Amanda was fired, and Bradley would be placed on probation for a year. If it wasn't and the perpetrators were the ones to cause damage to the car, then Amanda's probation would extend another month with yet another dock on her pay while Bradley would get away scot free. It wasn't fair, or even ethical, but that was Chelsea at her best.

After that fun conversation, Justin practically dragged Amanda towards one of the exam rooms, where he, Bradley, and Grady waited with her until Tara showed up. Normally she operated on babies, but because of Justin's insistence, she turned up to play ER nurse before her shift for her actual job started. Her face was pinched with confusion, worry, and slight frustration as she briefly studied Amanda.

"What happened," she started her list of questions as she pulled up Amanda's shirt to reveal the stained wrappings on her torso.

"We were the first to arrive on the scene; I partially got out of the truck to get a better look at the blaze when the perpetrators started shooting at us. One of them caught me in the side and went through cleanly. I got back inside, put it in reverse, and only stopped driving when I heard incoming sirens. I pressed too hard on the break and hit my shoulder against the dashboard." Amanda gestured to her hurt shoulder, and Tara looked up from inspecting the wound.

"Lift it up as high as it can go" she ordered, placing gentle hands on her forearm and upper arm.

She did as she was told and aside from slight pain when it reached up, she was able to lift most of the way into the pain grew astronomically and she had to stop. Tara moved around and started feeling her shoulder, stretching Amanda's arm out to figure out what's wrong with it.

"It feels like a partial dislocation, nothing too serious though." She waved Justin over and instructed him to work on Amanda's arm while investigated the wound more closely.

To say it royally sucked having Justin fixing her shoulder would be the understatement of the century. She was laid out on the table, her legs and good arm pinned down by Bradley and Grady as Justin maneuvered her shoulder back into the appropriate position while Tara worked on disinfecting the wound once again, and then stitching it up. The entire visit was done and over within about 40 minutes, which in retrospect wasn't entirely bad. Tara did a great job stitching everything up and redressing the wound. Once Justin's assault on her arm was over Bradley left to get her a sling and Tara sent Grady to get the meds she was prescribing Amanda in the meantime.

"Take them twice a day until the bottle runs out," Tara had ordered Amanda, and she saluted her good arm.

"Yes ma'am," she responded, about to walk away when Tara started to speak again.

"Are you going to tell Jax about this, or should I?"

Amanda sighed and turned to halfheartedly glare at Tara. She couldn't be mad at her when she helped fix her up under the hospital's nose, but it didn't stop the frustration from filtering in.

"You might be able to hide this from the hospital, but the club will find out about this. It's not going to take a lot to figure that I was the one who patched you up, and when Jax comes asking questions I'm not going to lie to him, Amanda." She paused again, her eyes pleading with her for a second. "So, I'll ask again, are you going to tell them, or should I?"

"Tara, I don't want them to know-" she started, but Tara interrupted her.

"I know you don't want them to know about you working here. It's your life, your choice about who gets to know this or that. I understand but Amanda, this is not like those other times. You were at the scene where their warehouse exploded and was injured as a result."

"The only injury the Sheriff was made aware of was Bradley hitting his head when we drove away."

"Maybe, but they got your names and information when each of you gave your statements, correct?"

Amanda didn't answer, cursing herself for not thinking about that earlier.

"This means even if the pair of you decided to skip town until the suspension lifts and your wounds heal up, they will still find out."

Amanda didn't speak, not wanting to admit Tara was right. Even so, her silence was admission enough, and Tara moved towards the door.

"I'll give you today to tell them, but if Jax or any of the club comes here asking what happened, I'm not going to lie, Amanda."

"Thank you, Tara" Amanda gritted her teeth, taking a deep, soothing breath before turning to face her, "for helping me."

She nodded, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. She turned to look at her one last time, "You have today."

Amanda nodded, and with that Tara left to get ready for her shift.

Amanda sat back down on the table, tapping her fingers on the cool metal as she thought about her situation, and what she was going to do.

"What time is it?" She asked no one in particular.

It was Grady who answered, "Just after 6, why?"

"Just curious," she answered with a shake of her head, her good hand rubbing her eyes in frustration. Glaring down at the sling, she looked at the guys. Bradley and Grady merely shrugged. Justin, however, gave Amanda a stern look, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What are you going to do, Hershey?"

She sighed, "It's too early to tell them."

"There's no way someone slept through that," Grady interjected, giving Amanda a knowing look.

"If they did then they'd be practically comatose," Bradley added, shrugging in response to Amanda's glare.

"Or drunk as a skunk, which thinking about how many those guys can drink..." Grady left his response hanging before sighing. "You only have today to tell them, Amanda," Grady grimaced.

"I know," she groaned, her head tilting back as she shoved off the table. There was a sharp pain in her shoulder as she did, but she ignored it as she headed for the door.

"When are you going to do it?" Justin's voice stopped her as she placed a hand on the knob.

She turned to look at him, "Probably around noon, that way they'll have time to start planning what they're going to do and then hopefully my news won't affect anything."

"I doubt that," Grady laughed while Justin nodded. "I'm holding you to that."

"I know," Amanda grumbled opening the door.

"In the meantime, let's get some breakfast at Polly's and catch up on some Z's" Bradley suggested, and the group murmured their agreement.

After some quick maneuvering and careful observation, the group was able to sneak out of the hospital without anyone noticing. Since Polly's Diner wasn't that far from the hospital, they opted to walk the distance instead of drive. Amanda tried desperately to keep her mind off of the Sons, or at least one person in particular, and instead concentrated on what she was going to do during her suspension and how in the hell she was going to pay the bills if the suspension lasts longer than expected.

Her mind was on numbers and plans when they entered the diner, and Polly's shout broke her out of her reverie.

"Well if it isn't my favorite group of paramedics" her girly voice sounded over the counter as she poured a cup of coffee for a guy wearing a trucker hat.

"The usual Polly" Justin nodded to her as they passed by her and walked to the corner booth that was always open for them, even had their names carved into the table after a drunken stint a few months back. Justin sat at the window that gave him an open view of the place and Amanda sat next to him, using her thumb to rub the indentions of the wood as Bradley sat across from Justin and Grady opposite Amanda.

In almost no time at all Polly arrived with their drinks. Amanda got hot chocolate with caramel drizzle, Justin his usual very black coffee, Bradley's latte with foam spilling over to the table, and Grady's coffee that was more sugar and cream than coffee.

"Is it a usual on the food too?"

"Yeah except would you mind adding a couple more slices of bacon to mine?" Justin answered, taking a sip of his coffee.

"A plate of hash browns instead of that extra stack of pancakes for me," Amanda mumbled around the hot chocolate.

"Add some mushrooms to my omelet, and I want sausage instead of ham for my sandwich."

Grady smiled, adding another packet of sugar to his coffee. "Oh, and some more sugar packets?"

"Just the usual for me, thanks" Bradley laughed, shaking his head at his friends.

Polly feverishly finished writing down the changes on her notepad and smiled at them all.

"Coming right up" she winked at Justin before turning and heading towards the kitchen.

Despite everything that's happened that morning, Amanda was starting to feel pretty good and joined in the laughter as the guys started giving Justin a rough time.

"Damn Justin" Bradley smirked around his latte.

"Are you going to hit that already or what?" Grady amusingly chastised Justin, who merely rolled his eyes.

"Dude, how many signals does she have to send before you finally pull your head out of your ass and go for it?" Amanda laughed gesturing towards the kitchen.

"How many times do I have to you guys to shut it before I deck you?" He growled, aiming that particular insult towards the guys, "and don't get me started on you, Hershey."

She rolled her eyes but laughed all the same as Grady continued his onslaught, "C'mon man, she's been pining after you for years."

"That's my point, Grady. She's been doing this for years, years. She hasn't given up yet, what does that tell you?"

"She's dedicated to a lost cause?" Amanda shrugged, earning another glare from Justin.

"She really wants to have wild sex with a sexy paramedic who served his country with flying colors?" Bradley added, looking up and down Justin's roguish form.

"She wants a really good story to tell her cyber friends about after you guys do the do." He wiggled his eyebrows, and Justin glared at all of them.

"No idiots, she wants a relationship, something the three of you clearly know nothing about." He gestured to all of them, and they didn't deny it. "Speaking as the only person who's actually been in a relationship in this piss poor excuse of a group, I know that look, and I'm not getting anywhere near it. Been there, done that, end of story."

"Just a thought, aside from Sergeant asshat, who's been in a relationship, and for how long," Grady asked, looking around the table.

Amanda shook her head, and Bradley shrugged, looking at his latte with a frown. Grady's shoulders slumped at their lack of response, "Well shit, Jury's right."

"How did you know?" Amanda asked, setting her hot chocolate down and giving her his full attention.

"One, you guys are obvious. Two, I know people. It's what I do. Now drink up," he took another sip of his coffee, and with that, the discussion was over.

It was about thirty minutes before the food finally arrived. Justin got his steak and eggs (with a plate of extra bacon) first. Amanda's blueberry pancakes with her plate of hash browns came next. Grady's ham and now mushroom omelet arrived with his now sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit. Finally, Polly set down Bradley's French toast with strawberries on the side with a flourish, her blonde ponytail swinging. She looked at Justin again, her hazel eyes flirtatious as she said, "Enjoy your breakfast" in a husky tone as she backed away, swinging her hips as she glanced one last time at their table.

The three looked at Justin knowingly, not bothering to hide their smiles from him.

"Eat your breakfast" he growled, stabbing into his steak.

They laughed in unison but didn't push, knowing the effort was futile.

As always, the food was great. When she finished she leaned back in her seat, groaning in satisfaction as she normally did after Polly's breakfast. Justin was on his third cup of coffee, looking just as satisfied as Amanda. Grady had devoured his omelet in seconds and was savoring his biscuit sandwich with glee, while Bradley was trying to stay awake over his half-eaten food.

Polly came over a few minutes later, her gaze fixed on Justin. "You guys doing okay?"

"Yeah, thanks Polly" Amanda responded for the group, who merely waved at Polly.

She laughed in response, "I'm guessing you guys want the check?"

"You guess right" Amanda laughed, holding out her hand. Polly handed her the slip, winking one last time at Justin, who stubbornly ignored her. She walked off with another swing of her ponytail and shake of her butt.

"Alright dickheads, pay up" she threw the check down on the table, and the guys groaned in annoyance.

Grady gently placed what was left of his sandwich on the plate and started digging through his wallet. He grimaced as Bradley placed a ten and a five on the table, and Justin dropped a twenty on the stack. Amanda waited for Grady, her expression expectant.

"I got seven," he said sheepishly, throwing down what he had.

Amanda rolled her eyes and bundled up the cash.

"Why aren't you paying again?" Bradley grumbled, resting his head on the back of the seat.

"You know the rules; the one with the cheapest meal doesn't pay-"

"But drives everyone home afterward" Grady laughed, nudging Bradley with his elbow.

"But you got the extra plate of hash browns" he started when Amanda stopped him. "Which is the same price as the extra stack of pancakes that I switched with the hash browns, while you got the second latte."

"I thought refills were free." He grumbled, not putting much effort into his argument as he fought to keep his eyes open.

"They are for Grady and Justin who got coffee, not a latte."

He mumbled something under his breath but otherwise quit the argument.

"Make sure he doesn't fall asleep, I won't be able to carry him this time." She gestured to her shoulder and Justin nodded.

"From the looks of it, he's probably going to be sleeping in the car today."

Amanda looked at Bradley and nodded, "Probably," she had a sudden thought, and though she wasn't particularly a huge fan of the idea, she knew it was probably her best bet without asking Justin and Grady to babysit him for the day. They've already covered her for enough; she'll figure something else out.

"I could always give Wendy a call; she owes me after I helped her get through her last rehab stint."

"You mean when you faked her paperwork and forced her to go through your own personal rehab program, so she didn't kill the baby?"

"Pretty much, yeah" she shrugged, looking at Justin.

His expression was neutral, thinking on her idea before shrugging and saying, "Give her a call and see if she's up for it."

Amanda pulled her phone from her back pocket and started scrolling through her contacts. She absently noticed Polly's return, giving her the cash as she found Wendy's name.

"Isn't Wendy Jax's ex-wife?" Grady asked while taking another bite of his biscuit as Polly walked towards the register.

"Yeah," Amanda said absently as she pressed the call button and waited for an answer. She answered on the fifth ring.

"Amanda?" a tired, strained voice answered, and Amanda immediately had a bad feeling.

"Hey Wendy, how are you doing?"

"Fine, just stressed about the about the baby coming is all," Wendy's response was grated, not helping temper Amanda's suspicions.

"Sorry about that, but it'll be worth it once he's born. Or so I'm told, anyway." Amanda paused, waiting for a response. When she didn't get one, she tried again. "Wendy, would you mind doing me a favor?"

"Depends on the favor," her response blunt, her voice panicked.

"Mind if Bradley and I crash at your place for a couple hours. We had a long night that got screwed up because of the explosion outside town. We stopped off at Polly's to get something to eat but now everyone is falling asleep and since your place is closer than ours-"

"No!" Wendy almost shouted into the phone, and Amanda knew something was wrong. She didn't know what it was, but she knew it was bad. "Um, sorry, but no," Wendy continued, and Amanda could tell she was trying to calm her voice to not alert her, "The house is a complete mess right now and I don't want you guys to see it like this. Why don't you ask Jax, or Gear if you can crash at their places for a while? You know they wouldn't mind."

Amanda's fists clenched at the sound of their names, mentally cursing Wendy for bringing them up in an idiotic attempt to deflect attention. She took a quick, deep breath, before saying, "Yeah, I mean if you're sure you don't want us over..." Amanda left it hanging, trying to get a response out of Wendy when Polly came back with their change.

"Yeah, just give Gear a call; he'll definitely help you out."

"I'll think about it" Amanda muttered, not technically lying as she would think about awful talking to him would be, "Maybe next time?"

"Yeah, definitely," Wendy said, relief in her voice.

Amanda was about to say her goodbye when Wendy abruptly hung up. She put away her phone and looked at the guys.

"What's wrong?" Grady said, the last of his biscuit falling to his plate.

"Something's up, she's hiding something."

"Let's go" Justin slammed down his coffee, and Amanda was already on her feet.

"Grady-" she was saying when stood up and interrupted her.

"I know. I'm on sleeping douchebag duty." He turned around and started pulling at Bradley's limp body across the seat. Once Grady had Bradley on his feet, he and Justin both took an arm, and started pulling him through the diner with a pissed off Amanda leading the way.

They raced back to the hospital, not taking a breath to collect themselves as Amanda got in the driver's seat and started the truck. If this had been a normal day, Justin would have annihilated her since it was his truck, his baby that he washes and cleans every day, and waxed nearly twice a week.

Whether it was due to the current situation, her winged arm, or sheer exhaustion causing him to not give a fuck, he merely slid into the passenger seat and remained silent. It took a minute to get Bradley into his seat, but once he and Grady were secure she tore out of the parking lot and headed straight for Wendy's.

Sadly, Amanda didn't account for traffic, which was surprisingly bad for a town the size of Charming. It made it even worse because the main road, the one that led straight to Wendy's neighborhood, was blocked off because of a huge wreck dealing one of Oswald's tankers, and a few civilian cars that were absolutely flattened.

"Shit" Amanda groaned, seeing Nick and Tristan from the day shift tending to wounded up ahead.

"We're not going to make it through this; we'll have to take a long way around."

"That'll take forever" Amanda complained to Justin, who merely gave her a look.

"Did it sound like she was in immediate danger?"

"... No" Amanda hesitated before answer.

"Then perhaps it's better that we take our time." He paused for a moment, and then asked, "If the situation was reversed, wouldn't you expect us to come to check on you, even if you were convinced that you played us?"

"Yeah, but I'm not a former crank junkie who's been in and out of rehab for years."

"True, but you do have a tendency to go overboard when you suspect something's wrong."

She glared at him, "Like I'm doing right now?"

He didn't answer that, "The point is, junkies and reformed junkies can be paranoid, especially when they get a call from someone who they don't talk to very often. The smart thing to do right now is to wait for a minute, take a deep breath, and take the long way to see if she and the baby are okay."

She rolled her eyes but acquiesced to his plea.

"Fine, but if I'm wrong-"

"Then we'll figure it out when we get there." He said, his eyes calm, yet firm.

She sighed in response and looked back at the road, slightly nodding. He patted her good shoulder in response but otherwise remained silent. She drove considerably slower as she made her way out of the wreckage zone and detoured through one of the neighboring streets.

For the rest of the way, she went the speed limit, wanting desperately to get out the crawl she felt like she was going.

Sadly, it turned out this day was a never-ending whirlpool of interrogations for Amanda and the crew. With the route they were going, it was about fifteen minutes from Wendy's place, and naturally, it was going to take longer than expected. Red and blue lights started shining behind her, a siren beginning to wail as she groaned in frustration.

"You've got to be kidding me" she complained, pulling off to the side of the road as the jeep pulled up behind her. She cursed again as when she recognized the main stepping out of the vehicle. Deputy Chief Hale in all his righteous glory walked towards them with a purpose.

She pulled down the window as soon as he arrived to seemingly berate her.

"What the hell dude?" she growled, glaring at him. Normally she was a bit more composed and respectful to police officers. Today was not a normal day.

"I'm not arresting you, Amanda." He said calmly, looking at her with concern.

"Then what are you doing?" Her tone lost some of its bites, but it still sounded pissed off.

"I heard you were one of the first people on scene for the warehouse explosion outside of town who also happened to be the driver of the ambulance that was loaded with bullets."

She groaned in response, her head hitting the back of her seat. Of course, he knows what happened. The only person that would get that information faster than SAMCRO would be Captain America himself.

"Based on the sling I'm going to assume that you were not entirely honest with Sheriff Trammell this morning." He paused, but she didn't respond, just glared at him. "Tell me what happened, Amanda."

"I dinged it on the dashboard when I pressed the brake too hard. It's not that hard to figure out."

"So why hide it from Trammell?"

"Because if the hospital found out I wouldn't be cleared to go back to work for weeks, not that it matters since they suspended me until the investigation proves I wasn't an idiot who parked too close to an explosion."

"I'm working on getting a subpoena, so I can check out the scene as well. In the meantime, I'll get the ballistics from the department and get your suspension lifted."

Amanda straightened up at that, "Seriously?"

"Yes," he said, suddenly confused.

"Why?"

"I trust your judgment. If you say you weren't too close, then you weren't." When she stared at him blankly, he sighed and continued. "You might not be the most honest person, Amanda, but you have never lied to me, even when it would have been in your best interest to do so. I know that when it comes down to situations like this, you'll be honest with me, and that's all I can ask for."

He gave her a small smile for a second, which grew slightly when she nodded. "Are you going to be okay?"

She looked down at the shoulder, and absently the bullet wound that has so far not given her much trouble. "I'll be fine, just going to see a...friend before we find a place to crash for a few hours." She hesitated over the word friend. She wasn't entirely sure why until Hale just had to mention him.

"Gear? Isn't his place back that way?" He pointed to his right, which was behind Amanda.

"No," she grated through clenched teeth, "I was going to see Wendy. See how she's doing and everything."

"Okay, well I'll be in touch. You need anything, give me a call." He patted the roof of the truck before he started to walk away.

Amanda couldn't stop herself from saying, "Hey Hale."

He came back to the window, his eyes wide with interest, "What's up?"

"Nothing, just... thanks." Her words were stiff, but he understood what she was saying.

"Anytime," he said in an equally stiff tone. He nodded to her, and Justin who had remained silent during their conversation. He gave her a final look before walking back to his Jeep. She waited until he was in the jeep before driving away; taking a deep breath to prepare what was waiting for her.

No one said anything on the final stretch to Wendy's house. She peaked in the rearview mirror to see Bradley's face in the crotch of Grady's lap, and Grady's head tilted back, his eyes shut, and mouth opened wide.

Despite everything in the moment, Amanda had to bite back a laugh. She nudged Justin in the ribs and pointed to the scene behind him. Never has a grin been more wicked or evil than in the singular moment.

She leaned back slightly to pull her phone from her front pocket. "Take a picture" she taunted, handing it to him, "it'll last longer."

"You're a bad influence, Hershey."

"And you're easy to manipulate, Jury."

He took her phone with glee, switching to camera mode, and getting some much-needed blackmail on Grady.

"What are you going to do with them?"

"Oh, you'll see," he winked at her, and she couldn't help but laugh at him. The laugh must have woken the sleeping pair up because Justin quickly handed the phone back to her, looking like a little boy up to no good.

She could hear grunts of confusion coming from the back seat, and quick adjustments as they quickly separated, looking sheepish. Amanda contained her amusement this time, even as when she slid a quick glance at Justin, who looked very, very smug.

They made it to Wendy's a couple minutes later. She parked the truck and climbed out gingerly, keeping her shoulder in mind. Justin walked with her to the door, keeping a wary eye out for any suspicious activity. She had just knocked on the door when she heard a car pulling up at the same time Justin nudged her in the ribs, saying "We've got company."

"Fuck" Amanda groaned when she turned to see who arrived. In her black Caddy, Gemma exited her car with a kind of grace that Amanda used to envy; now she was just annoyed.

"Amanda," Gemma said in her usual austere tone, cocking a hip as she took off her sunglasses. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking on Wendy," Amanda responded in an equally curt tone, gesturing towards the house behind her. "I called earlier to see if we could crash here for the night. She all but told me to get lost, which isn't unusual by any means. She sounded off though, so I decided to stop by."

"How off?" Worry leaked into Gemma's voice, and Amanda softened as she continued.

"Enough to give me the creeps and want to check on her."

"When was the last time you saw her?" Gemma stepped forward.

"A couple months ago, we're not that close. I only called today because she was close by and I didn't want to make the drive to my place."

"Long night" Gemma nodded to my shoulder, and she shrugged with her good shoulder.

"You can say that," she didn't bother elaborating, and Gemma's scowl returned.

"Oh shit," Amanda heard behind her. She turned to see Bradley's eyes wide with shock. "Call 911!" He pointed to the window looking into the dining room. Amanda raced over, Gemma not far behind her, and she froze.

"Fuck," Amanda cursed, absently taking off the sling as her feet carried her around the house. She made it to the back entrance in record time. She grabbed hold of the knob, but it wouldn't turn. She stepped back to shove the door open, but a strong, firm hand grasped her good shoulder and pulled her away.

"I got it," Justin said in a brusque tone. It took him a couple of tries, but with a well-placed kick, the door swung open, sending items crashing to the floor in its wake.

Amanda rushed ahead of him, heading straight to the dining room where she found Wendy.

The first thing she noticed was the melted ice cream on the floor near her head, meaning she's been like this for an extended period. The next was the needle in her hand, meaning she ran out of other places to put it. Then she saw the blood on the floor coming from between her legs, meaning the baby was dead, or quickly on its way to being dead. They had to move fast.

Amanda kicked the ice cream out of the way and kneeled at Wendy's head, checking her pulse and attempting to clear her airway. Justin went to grab her legs, helping straighten out her body.

Footsteps came crashing into the room, and Grady's voice was rushed.

"Gemma called 911, but with the wreck on the main road it's going to take time for them to get here."

"Wendy's got a pulse," Amanda said absently, "it's faint though, and she's not going to have time to wait for the ambulance."

"The kid certainly doesn't," Justin gritted, "There's no way to tell if he's still kicking or not. We can't afford to wait." He grabbed Wendy's ankles, "Grady get over here."

Amanda switched with Grady without complaint. Now was not the time to play tough guy when a baby's life was on the line. His arms hooked under her shoulders and the pair lifted her with a precision that could only come from working together for so long. Amanda led the way out of the house and helped direct them to Justin's truck. She opened the back door and watched with nervous anticipation as they sprawled her along the back seat, Grady still holding her up.

"Shut the door! Get us to the hospital!" He shouted, and Amanda did as she was told. She intended to get in the passenger seat, letting Justin drive, but once again his hand was on her and pulled her away.

"Go with Gemma" he ordered as Bradley took the passenger seat.

"What?" Amanda blinked in confusion. Why were they sending her away?

"Bradley has Gemma's phone so he can keep in contact with the dispatcher. Jax needs to know what happened to his kid and this is not something he needs to hear over the phone. Now go," he gently pushed her away, and though part of her was pissed, she nodded and rushed over to Gemma.

"Call Jax," Gemma ordered, starting the car as Amanda climbed into the passenger seat. She had barely shut the door when Gemma shot out of the driveway and headed towards the clubhouse. Amanda raced through her contacts and called him the moment she found his name. It went straight to voicemail.

"Shit," she muttered, trying Chibs when Gemma asked "What?"

"His phone is turned off," she grumbled, cursing when Chibs phone also went straight to voicemail.

"Try Gear," Gemma suggested as she took a very sharp turn in the next street. A groan of pain escaped from Amanda as her body impacted the door. She cursed as she straightened, not sure which pain she needed to comfort more as she glared at Gemma.

"Sorry," Gemma muttered before realizing something, "where's your sling?"

"I took it off," Amanda answered simply, looking away from Gemma.

"Why did you take it off?"

"Because I needed both hands to keep a junkie alive long enough to save her unborn child," Amanda growled, staring out into the passing landscape, trying to keep her shoulder steady as Gemma kept her speedy, reckless pace through the streets of Charming.

When Gemma didn't respond Amanda risked a glance to appraise her expression. She was smiling and that unnerved Amanda more than she cared to admit.

"What?"

"Nothing," she paused for a second, nodding to Amanda's phone, "call Gear."

"If Jax and Chibs' phones are turned off, I highly doubt his will be on."

"Well, you're not going to know until you call him."

Amanda groaned, hoping desperately she was right, and his phone was turned off with the rest. She pressed dial, hoping desperately for his voicemail. Luck was with her, it too went to voicemail, but the sound of his voice still ripped her to the core.

"It's Gear, you know what to do." Then there was the beep and Amanda stayed silent for a second, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. She cleared her throat, trying to gain some shred of bravery as she spoke into the speaker.

"Call me back. It's important." With that, she hung up. Her hands were shaking when she put her phone back in her pocket and then proceeded to sit on them, ignoring the increasing pain in her shoulder and the dull pain in her side. The automated response didn't do his voice justice or loosen her nerves at all. What it did was make her think about how his voice supposed to sound, and the way his lips would curve when he smiled at her, or the way his eyebrows knitted together whenever he was worried about her or pissed at her for something.

Her palms started sweating against the leather of Gemma's seat, and she cursed her stupid body for reacting this way.

"He didn't answer?"

"His phone is turned off like I told you it would be."

"Well, it was worth a shot." Amanda could see Gemma looking at her from the corner of her eye. "What happened to your shoulder?"

Of course, she would choose now to start interrogating her, when Amanda was putty in her hands, too tired and distracted to jump out of a moving car.

"I was driving too fast last night, pressed the brake too suddenly and my shoulder hit the dashboard. Not much to it," Amanda hated being vague, and though she knew she had to at least tell Jax the truth about last night, she sure as hell didn't need to tell Gemma.

"How bad is it?" Was that worry in her tone? Amanda was sure she was mistaken.

"Partial dislocation, the sling is merely a precaution."

"Who gave it to you?"

"Who do you think?" Amanda retorted, and Gemma snorted.

"You going to be okay?"

"I'm still kicking," Amanda didn't continue, and for once Gemma didn't push it. They drove in silence for the remainder of the time, and Amanda surprisingly found it comfortable. Sadly, the semi-relaxed atmosphere did nothing to temper her thoughts from drifting to Gear, and what would happen when she saw him again.

It wasn't like they parted on bad terms or anything, but ever since he decided to join the Sons, getting his cut on his 18th birthday, Amanda hasn't been able to think of him or be around him without her heart was breaking into a million pieces. She never wanted him to be part of the club, especially after seeing the toll it took on both of her parents. It made them harder, less forgiving and drained them until they met their fateful end. Gear was never innocent, not with the pain and suffering he went through at Michael's hands, but there was still softness to him. The dreamer that looked at the stars every night like they were the most beautiful things in the world, that awesome guy who watched Star Wars and talked about what he would do if he went against Darth Vader, the same guy who dressed up as Han Solo every Halloween while trying to get her to go as Leia. She never did, but she did try out the Leia buns one night just for kicks. She still remembered the look on his face when he walked in on her in the bathroom trying to take them out. Priceless.

She smiled at the memory before quickly trying to hide it, hoping desperately Gemma wouldn't see it. She wondered if he still watched those movies, or if they were just a long-forgotten dream from the person he used to be. She hoped he did because maybe then her friend would still be there, buried deep within the hard-shell Clay instilled in him since he was patched in at 19. He was 22 now, or at least he will be in a few days. Amanda already had his present picked out for him. Star Wars themed shot glass set with a bottle of tequila and a note saying, "May the force be with you for the impending hangover." She would always send it anonymously, though she doubted she fooled him. He never tried to ask her about it, and she was grateful to him for that. It was already pathetic enough that she still celebrated his birthday in secret, having it out there for the world to know was just embarrassing.

Gemma took another sharp turn down the familiar street, and her stomach plummeted. Fists clenched, heart plummeted, and her lungs constricted at the sight of the warehouse. Her side singed with a burning pain as Gemma took the turn into the parking lot for the garage, and Amanda was suddenly trying not to panic. Gemma started honking with urgent ferocity, signaling everyone to their arrival. She wanted to punch her, jump out of the car and run for dear life. She really didn't want to be here, didn't want to see him at all. Suddenly, just as Amanda started devising an expert plan to escape the garage without being noticed that would have likely failed, she saw him.

He looked amazing, as always. His dark, curly hair was longer now, made him look like one of those beach bums that always hit on Amanda whenever she found time to surf. It framed his strong, masculine face perfectly well. His hazel eyes peeking through with that strange intensity he always had. The scars on the right side of his jaw glinted in the sunlight, making them look like they were alien marks that came straight out of sci-fi show. He looked taller, the muscles in his arm slightly bigger and more defined than the last time she saw him. It must have been because of the cut, or maybe the white foo-fighters t-shirt made him appear larger than life. She was tempted to let her eyes stray to other parts of him, parts that were hidden well by his stained jeans. She shut them immediately, shaking her head furiously, chastising herself for letting her mind get away from her.

Gemma's door suddenly opened, "C'mon!" she yelled at Amanda before slamming it shut. Amanda took a deep breath, cursing herself once more for being a cowardly wimp, and opened her door.


	4. Keeping Secrets?

**Gear**

He thought his eyes were deceiving him. Amanda stepping out of Gemma's caddy was something that was too good to be true, but true it was. His heart stopped at the sight of her. He couldn't believe she was actually here, here in the garage after all this time until she shut the door and walked towards him with a grace and purpose that made his knees buckle.

Her green eyes almost sparkled like those girls in those anime shows he watches now and again. Her fair hair shined in the sunlight, flowing with the catch of the wind. Her beautiful face struck him deep in his heart, his breath catching at the sight of her. Her plain grey t-shirt was big on her, meaning she borrowed it from either Justin or Grady, and her dark jeans were ripped above her right knee with those worn out black boots peeking out. He noticed she held her left arm at a weird angle, and his gaze returned to her face to assess her expression.

She looked very serious, as did Gemma, and Gear knew something had to be terribly wrong.

"We tried calling you" Gemma spoke, walking straight up to Jax and Clay.

"What's up?" Jax asked, his expression growing more worried by the second.

"Wendy OD'd" Amanda answered bluntly, "Justin and Grady took her to the hospital but we have no way of knowing if the baby's okay." She stopped when her cell phone rang. "That's Justin," she answered and walked away abruptly.

Jax's eyes were wide with shock. Gemma stepped in front of him, placing her hands on his shoulders when he tried to move towards Amanda. Gear found he too was trying to get closer to Amanda, but Clay stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait a second," his tone was firm and filled with warning. Gear took a deep breath and nodded, his eyes never straying from Amanda's form. He heard Gemma saying soothing words to Jax, but like Gear, he too was staring at Amanda like a lifeline, awaiting news for his son.

It was a quick call, barely lasted a minute, and suddenly Amanda was walking towards them again.

"Good news or bad news?"

"Bad," Jax answered, pushing past Gemma to stare eye to eye with Amanda.

"They're going to have to perform a C-Section," Amanda continued, taking a deep breath," I don't know how far along Wendy is but he's definitely going to be premature. He's going to have some other problems too, but the severity of them depends on how long Wendy's been using."

"What's the good news?"

"The baby's alive, which means he has a chance." Amanda's voice was steady through her explanation, her head gesturing towards the car. "Justin wasn't able to tell me anything else, the nurses kicked him and Grady out before they could find out what else was happening."

"We'll follow you there." Jax headed towards his bike, and Clay looked to Chibs and Bobby who quickly followed suit. Gear glanced back to find Amanda climbing back into Gemma's car, who had already had the engine running, and speeding out of the parking lot once Amanda was seated. Gear quickly straddled his bike, not bothering with the helmet this time as he raced to catch up with Jax and the rest of them.

The entire way there Gear couldn't take his eyes off of Gemma's caddy, trying to get as many glimpses of Amanda he could manage without wrecking his bike. There were a couple of times he thought she might have been looking for him too, but he figured it was his wishful thinking getting ahead of him again. Still, despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn't stop his heart from soaring at the sight of her today. After that morning with those two girls, awful images plaguing his mind involving Amanda, he needed to see her like this. Alive, healthy, and avoiding him as always.

Once they made it to the hospital, he parked his bike quickly and illegally next to Jax's as they raced inside the building, and took the elevator to the pregnancy ward. The whole trip up there Gemma was filling in Clay and Jax about the matches she found from the Hairy Dog, one of the bars in Charming, and Clay surmised that one of Darby's guys must have been dealing out of there again. Amanda remained silent, and Gear stayed next to her without getting to close, knowing she wouldn't like that.

Her left arm was still at an odd angle, and upon closer inspection, he noticed that she was in pain, but desperately trying to hide it.

What happened to her?

He had to stop himself from grabbing her and forcing her to tell him what happened. Amanda already hated him enough, no need to add fuel to the fire when there were other ways to get the information he needed. When they turned the corner she stumbled slightly, and her right hand immediately went to the right side of her rib cage.

Wait, right side?

Her face tightened with pain, and this time Gear found it harder to grab her. Not to interrogate her, but to hold her. Hold her tight and whisper sweet things to her, making sure she was okay. He heard a door opening, and grudgingly looked away from Amanda to have his eyes land on Tara. Her expression was grave as she walked towards them. Her eyes landed on Amanda, and Gear caught her shaking her head slightly. He immediately looked to see a flash of annoyance crossed her face before she went to address Jax.

"How is she?"

"When was the last time you saw her?" Tara began questioning, and from there she revealed that indeed they performed a c-section in order to save Abel, despite the fact that he was now 12 weeks premature. He also had a heart defect that came with being a Teller, and a tear in his abdomen from the drugs. The doctors believed the best course of action was to operate immediately. It was the best chance the kid had, but even then there was only a 12 percent chance that he would survive.

Gear stood there, motionless. He didn't know what to do, what to say or even feel at this moment. He looked to Jax, who didn't look merely lost or shocked, though Gear could tell he felt those emotions. No, Jax was pissed, and Gear had a hard time understanding. He knew why Jax was pissed, but what he didn't understand was exactly who his brother was pissed at. Was it Wendy for being weak and essentially killing his son? Was it at himself for letting this happen right under his nose? Was it the dealer, the guy who gave her the drugs in the first place? Was it all three in one single swoop?

Gear looked to Amanda once more, gauging her mood while trying to temper his own. She looked guarded, trying to hide what she was truly feeling. Gear understood that. Everyone else was already so emotional, the last thing anyone needed was another person freaking out because they couldn't handle it, not with so many of the group already on edge as is. He noticed her hand was still pressed against her right side, and her left arm cradled itself across her torso, and Gear's worry escalated. He couldn't stop himself before his hand reached out to gently touch her left shoulder. He didn't miss the unmistakable wince at her sharp intake of breath, or the way she flinched under his touch.

"Amanda?" Gear moved to stand in front of her, ignoring the inquisitive eyes now trained on the pair.

"I'm fine," she grunted, moving away from not just Gear, but the group itself.

"Where's your sling?" Tara's voice remained steady, and Gear felt her brush past him.

"She took it off when we found Wendy," Gemma interjected, receiving a glare from Amanda.

"What sling?" Gear found himself asking, his eyes narrowed in on her shoulder.

"She received a partial dislocation from the accident earlier today," Tara gently grabbed

Amanda's arm and forced her to stop her escape.

"What did you do once you removed the sling?"

"I ran into the house, checked her vitals, and then directed the guys as they carried her out and hoisted her into the back of Justin's truck."

"So you didn't do any heavy lifting?"

"No," Amanda grunted.

Tara didn't speak for a minute as she inspected Amanda's shoulder. The group waited with bated breath as she sighed.

"Are you sure you didn't do anything too strenuous?"

"Aside from getting thrown around in a car being driven by a crazy lady, I'm pretty sure."

Tara turned to look at Gemma, "was she wearing her seatbelt?"

"No," Gemma crossed her arms, scowling at Amanda, who rolled her eyes in frustration.

"It's been dislocated again, and it's probably worse this time."

"I'll be fine; it's nothing I can't handle." Amanda tried to pull away, but when she did the hand pressed tightly to her side slipped a little, revealing a dark spot that certainly wasn't sweat. Gear didn't know what he was doing until he had moved passed Tara and pulled Amanda's hand away from her side, revealing the growing bloodstain in her grey shirt.

"Oh my God," Gemma and the entire group moved closer, but not before Tara moved in front of them and pushed her towards the nearest chair. Gear took the one next to Amanda, refusing to let go of her bloody hand.

"Lift up her shirt," Tara ordered Gear, and before Amanda could object, his free hand grabbed the hem, and pulled up.

The bandage wrapped around the right side of her ribcage was soaked in blood. Tara looked up and down the hallway before looking to Gear.

"Take her to the nearest restroom; make sure no one sees you. Once there, clear it out, put an out of order sign on it, then lock the door."

"Where's the out of order sign?"

"It's normally under the middle sink but it really depends on the bathroom. Get her in there, and I'll send Justin to get you guys once I find an available exam room."

Gear nodded, and before Amanda had the chance to protest, he wrapped his arm around her, placing his hand firmly on the wound, and pulled her to her feet. Clay stood in front of the pair, his head gesturing down the hall.

"I'll clear the way," he then looked to Chibs and Bobby, "call Tig, let him know what's going on." He paused once more, glancing at Jax, "and watch his back, don't let him get hurt."

Gear saw Bobby nod his head out of the corner of his eye before hauling Amanda down the hallway. Clay stayed by his side, not saying a word as Amanda meekly struggled against Gear's hold. He held her firm and tight. She wasn't going to be able to get away from him, especially with the state she was in. How did this happen? Gear was enraged at the thought of someone hurting his girl, his friend he mentally corrected. With the correction, his mind decided to combine the two words and Gear cursed his brain for the thought. It wasn't until the shocking warmth and wetness coming from her side leaking onto his hand at an alarming rate alerted his brain to more important matters. Instead of dwelling on calling her his girlfriend, he focused on keeping her upright, and not damaging her further when Gear saw the restroom.

Clay kicked the door open and proceeded to check all the stalls while Gear picked Amanda up as gently as he could, setting her on the countertop in between the two sinks. He was tempted to lift up her shirt again to get a better look at the wound but thought better of it. Gear wasn't a medic, a doctor, or possessed anatomical knowledge whatsoever. There wasn't anything he could do except stare at the wound or keep the pressure on it. He kneeled to open the doors beneath the sink. He found the sign quickly enough and raced to hang it outside on the nail. He closed it, looking to Clay for confirmation. He gave the all clear, and Gear locked the door.

Once the restroom was secured, Gear moved to stand in front of Amanda, placing his hands on either side of her legs. His face was inches from hers, so close he could detect a whiff of body spray that he knew had to be Justin's, which drove him crazy. He looked her dead in the eyes, steeling himself for what her response could be.

"Who did this?"

She leaned back against the mirror, groaning in frustration and pain. He remained silent, waiting with bated breath.

"I'm not sure," she started, taking a deep breath that made her wince.

"Then tell me what you know."

She took another deep breath, looking away from him and towards the door.

"You're not getting out of here Amanda, not until you tell us what happened," Clay interjected, his voice deep and echoing on the marble walls.

She rolled her eyes but glanced at him warily before returning her gaze to Gear. She stared at him for a moment, and he stared back steadily, confidently. She took another deep breath, ignoring the pain it caused, before answering with, "I was the driver of the ambulance this morning."

At first, it didn't compute. Gear's brain shorted out at her statement, finding trouble connecting possible events that didn't lead to the obvious conclusion. When no other options arose, and he realized what she meant, his reaction was instantaneous.

He felt his eyes widen in shock, his lungs draw in so much air he felt he was going to burst. His fists clenched, Goosebumps spread across his skin with frightening speed as his body suddenly leaned closer to her. His forehead now touched hers, and though his anger was rising to alarming levels, the feel of her skin against his tempered his reaction slightly, keeping his anger at bay for that short, singular moment until he heard her wince again. He abruptly pulled away, her bloody hand going to her hurt shoulder as she straightened up, the pain in her eyes more evident than before.

"What happened," Gear growled, unable to calm his voice.

"Do you want the long version or the short version?"

"Short version," Clay answered brusquely, his hands at his hips.

"Short version, right, "she took a deep breath, "I'm a paramedic for the county, and I was driving through Charming, doing my job when the warehouse exploded. We called in the explosion and went to the scene. Shortly after we arrived someone started shooting at us." She gestured to her wound, "Clearly, I got hit. No, I didn't see who did it." She looked to Gear for that statement. "I put the truck in reverse and didn't stop until I heard sirens coming. I pushed on the brake too hard and-" she left it hanging, shrugging unconsciously and wincing once more.

"Why didn't you tell us when it happened?" Gear asked, leaning closer to her again.

"Because I didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

"You were shot" Gear almost shouted, his fists clenching again, "you could have been killed."

"But I wasn't," she contradicted, sending another burst of anger through Gear. "I'm sitting here in front of you, breathing and kicking just fine." She nudged him with her foot. Normally that would calm him down, her being playful. Today wasn't a normal day, especially with the images of those two girls burnt to a crisp still fresh in his mind.

"You call wincing every time you take a breath just fine?"

"Well, it's better than not breathing at all." She shrugged again, causing another stab of pain, and kicking the counter in frustration.

"So you didn't see who did it?" Clay interrupted before Gear could start shouting.

Amanda shook her head, "No, I saw footprints where a bunch of casings were scattered, but I didn't see anyone."

Clay nodded, stepping up next to Gear, who still had her caged with his arm placement on the countertop.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Gear looked deep into Amanda's eyes. She stared back wearily.

"I don't think so, but after Gemma's driving I probably am."

"Maybe you should have been wearing a seatbelt," Clay responded.

Amanda rolled her eyes, "seatbelts are for pussies."

Gear's mouth quirked, a distant memory from one of their many ludicrous conversations came to mind. He pushed it back, focusing on the task at hand. Clay, however, was not amused.

"Next time I hear about you driving strapless again, I'll have Unser suspend your license."

Amanda rolled her eyes but otherwise gave no response. Her eyes wandered for a fair amount of time before settling on one of Gear's patches. He noticed her eyebrows flinched when her gaze landed on them, and whatever amusement he felt moments before abruptly disappeared, replaced with a slight pain in his chest, and the slightest amount of shame. In an attempt to distract himself from the pain, he asked her something that was starting to bug him.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Her gaze returned to his face, gauging his expression. "Tell you what?"

"That you became a paramedic? Why didn't you tell me, or any of us for that matter?"

"I had my reasons," she didn't elaborate, "probably not going to be one for much longer though."

"Why, because of what happened at the warehouse?"

"No," she paused, and for a second Gear wasn't sure if she was going to continue until she rolled her eyes and said, "well no and yes."

He cocked an eyebrow, and she continued, "My boss has it out for me. Normally I have my prickly disposition to blame for the amount of loathing she has for me but she's been like since the moment we met. Her first words to me were 'don't get used to this, you won't last long here, I'll make sure of it' before flitting away with a stick up her ass." Her expression grew flustered at the memory, and she winced again as she once again unconsciously moved her shoulder.

"Ever since then she's tried to get me either suspended or fired every chance she gets. Even minor shit like a miswritten number on the inventory sheet at the end of the shift, she draws up complaint forms and sends them to HR. Complete with a recommendation noting her full support for their inevitable decision to fire me."

She kicked the counter again, but this time it wasn't from pain. "There's no way I'm going to be able to hide this, there's cameras all over this building, apart from the service hallways that are staff only that I was able to sneak out of earlier." She groaned, her head thumping against the mirror again. "Once she gets a whiff of me doing anything suspicious I'm done for."

"No, she won't," Gear promised, trying to unclench his fists from the newest rise of anger clouding his mind.

"Who is she? Your boss?" Clay asked, and whatever softness Gear saw flashing through her emerald eyes disappeared in an instant, anger and fear shining through.

"I'm not telling you shit," she growled, trying to move away from them.

As Gear moved to stop her escape, Clay stepped up close and looked her dead in the eye, "Kid, this is going to go one of two ways. Either you tell me now so we can get this done quickly and quietly, or you can be stubborn and I'll still find out who it is because that's what I do. So what's it going to be?"

"I vote for the third option."

"There is no third option," Clay growled, trying to keep his expression neutral.

"There is a third option because I'm making a third option."

"What's your idea?" Gear interrupted before Clay could continue.

Amanda glanced back and forth between Clay and Gear for a second, "She's my problem, not yours. Therefore, I should be the one to handle her."

"How do you plan on handling her? You've been dealing with her for how long exactly?"

She hesitated, "about 5 months but-"

"So you've had 5 months to handle this problem and you haven't done anything. Why?"

"Because all the other charges were bogus and I knew they wouldn't gain any ground. Plus with the plethora of complaints that amounted to nothing, it would end up making her look bad and the boy who cried wolf, shit like that. This time is different because I'm actually doing something worthy of getting canned."

"So all the complaints make her look bad now, but once they get sufficient evidence of foul play, all those complaints blow back on you." Gear stated, and again Amanda hesitated.

"Yes-"

"So why should I, we, standby and let you handle this chick when she's on her way to burying you?"

"Because this is my life," she raised her voice slightly, her eyes burning. "I have worked my ass off to get this job without anyone's help. Countless of hours studying and practicing to get to this point and I refuse to let some bimbo with a clipboard take it away from me, or motorcycle riding jackasses come in to save the day when I can save myself." She paused, leaning close so that Gear felt her breath on his face. "I can handle this, now please trust me to do it."

Gear stared back into her gaze steadily, refusing to give an inch. It went on like that for a few more seconds when there was a loud bang on the front door. His eyes went to the door just as he felt Amanda stiffen in response. She cursed in a loud grunt, her good arm hitting the mirror behind her with her elbow in frustrated pain. He grabbed her hand, forcing her to stop. She glared at him or tried to, whatever annoyance she felt towards him was overshadowed by pain as she cursed again, looking away from him and towards the door.

Clay was waiting, his ear pressed against the metal paneling when a deep, muffled voice sounded through, and Clay eased back.

"It's Justin," swiftly unlocking the door.

Gear's eyebrows knotted at the sight of the former marine. He hated to admit it, but he liked the guy. He seemed decent enough, always looking out for Amanda if the stories were to be believed. Based on the way his face looked worried and frustrated at Amanda, Gear believed them. It didn't change the fact that he was beyond jealous of the man. Justin might have eight years on Amanda, but that didn't mean much to Gear when the man reached out to her.

"Can't seem to stay out of trouble can you, Hershey?"

"Shut up," she groaned.

"Hershey?" Gear asked, trying to not glare at Justin.

"Don't ask, I'm not in the mood for more explanations," Amanda grunted as Justin checked the wound.

Gear backed away slightly, wanting to be polite and let Justin do his job, but he kept a firm hold on Amanda's hand, his thumb gently caressing the back of it. He glanced at her, gauging her reaction. She didn't seem to mind. Then again Justin was pulling up her shirt to inspect the wound so that probably had something to do with her lack of response.

The pain was apparent on her face during Justin's inspection, and Gear tightened his hold. When she tightened his hand in return, he chalked it up to the pain, and yet-

"You really screwed these up, kid." Justin pulled her shirt back down, "you good to walk?"

"Yeah," she grunted, and with Gear's help, she pushed off the counter and landed gingerly on her feet, "once I'm not stepping on pins and needles."

"I can't give you too long; Chelsea's pissed off and on the prowl, looking for you."

"Chelsea?" Clay and Gear said in unison, and he could see Amanda's eyes widen and slightly shake her head.

"Yeah," he paused assessing her reaction, and then continued, "Hale called earlier to tell the higher-ups to lift the suspension against you and Brad. Apparently gave her some hell too cause she's looking more pissed off than usual."

"That was quick," she mumbled, leaning slightly against Gear as she shifted the weight between her feet.

"What does Hale know about this?" Clay asked.

The pair looked at each other, and Amanda shook her head again with a quick jerk, and Gear glared at her.

"He knew you were there," Gear stated, and she grimaced.

"He knew because he found my statement, told me so earlier when he pulled me over to check on me, make sure I was okay."

"What did he ask you?"

"I told you, he was just checking on me. He heard that I was there and saw my sling, asked why I hid it from Trammell, and promised he'd help get the bullshit suspension lifted. That's it."

"So he knows you're a paramedic?" Gear growled, glaring at nothing in general because if he glared at her he'd see Justin's hands on her wound, on her more precisely and his patience was quickly reaching the end of its tether.

"Yeah, we worked a few calls together. To be honest I'm kind of surprised that you guys didn't know, the way the town talks and all that bullshit."

Clay scoffed. Gear looked up to see he was shaking his head, his expression frustrated.

"Okay, enough with the interrogation," Justin spoke with steady confidence, standing pulling her shirt back down and gesturing towards the door. "Grady's found an empty storage room we can use, but if we're going to have any chance of avoiding Chelsea, we'll have to leave now."

"Fine with me," Amanda grunted, moving towards him eagerly.

Gear held onto her firmly as Clay unlocked the door and poked his head out the door.

"What does this Chelsea look like," he asked Justin.

"Think Ice Queen, you can't miss her," Justin responded before Amanda could stop him. She glared at him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Let's go," Clay growled, shoving open the door in his frustration.

Amanda leaned into Gear as they walked out into the hallway, and he hugged her close to his side. He liked having her there. If it were up to him he'd hold her like this all the time. Sadly, it didn't work that way. The next few minutes were a blur to Gear as the group tried to evade cameras while also attempting to look nonchalant. Thankfully they only had to descend one level to find Grady, his brown, curly hair flopping freely as he rushed over to the group with wide eyes.

"Go back," he whispered urgently, "Chelsea's coming."

"Where?" Gear asked, feeling Amanda stiffen in his grip.

"Don't," she turned in his grasp, forcing him to look at her. "She's my problem, let me deal with her."

"Not until you tell me what you plan to do with her."

"Peter, please." Amanda pleaded, "Please let me handle her."

Shockwaves rippled through his chest at the sound of his real name. He pulled her closer, his gaze unwittingly focused on her lips. It was hard to think when she was so close to him. His breath became ragged the longer he held her like this. One of her hands rested on his chest, the heat seeping through his shirt. The other held the collar of his cut, her fingers clinging tightly to the leather.

"Low blow, Manny," Gear whispered, forcing his gaze away from her. He looked to Grady.

"Where's the storage room?"

"Just down the hall, third door on the left."

"Clay and I will get her there, you two run interference. Keep her busy until we give you the all clear."

Just as Grady nodded, a loud voice erupted behind the group projecting, "Holy crap, what happened to you?" in his normal condescending tone that could only belong the Tig Trager. But when Gear turned to look at him, his expression did not match his natural condescending tone. It was worried and perplexed his attention solely on Amanda. She groaned again, and though Gear knew it was born out of frustration and embarrassment, it kicked him and the rest of the group into high gear.

Grady and Justin rushed down the hallway while Tig took residence behind Amanda, looking at Clay.

"I'll fill you in later. We gotta get her someplace safe and away from prying eyes first."

"Alright," he responded. With that Clay lead the way with Gear and Tig carting an unwilling Amanda behind him. They made it to the room with little difficulty. It wasn't until Tig was closing the door behind them that they heard a woman screaming at the top of her lungs.

"I don't care where she is, what she's doing, or who she's doing! If I don't see that piece of trash in the next five minutes, she will no longer be working at this hospital! The same goes for her faggot of a partner!"

The sharp sound of heals could be heard in the distance as Tig finally shut the door, laughing.

"Wow, I would not want to be on her bad side."

"Chelsea?" Gear asked Amanda.

She didn't reply.


	5. What to do, What to do?

**Amanda**

Well, it was nice while it lasted. Once Amanda was barricaded in the storage room with three SAMCRO members, one of them being her former best friend who she couldn't keep a secret from to save her life, they waited somewhat patiently for Justin and Grady to be free from Chelsea's latest rant session. Amanda was normally the one on the receiving end of Chelsea's rage, and always the topic of her rants. Normally she would have felt at least some sympathy for the guys. Not today. Today was the day that everything in her life went to absolute and utter shit.

Her career was over before it really had the chance to begin. Her shoulder was fucked up because of both her driving and Gemma's. Her side burned beyond all imagining meaning she probably got it infected when her stitches ripped open. She tried to hide both injuries from her place of employment and failed to do so because of well-placed cameras and a miserable attempt at being sneaky.

Because of her failure to report her injuries, and Chelsea's absolute loathing for her, Amanda was canned. The only hope Amanda had left was for Justin and Grady, Bradley was already on the cusp of being canned for various other reasons that Amanda didn't want to know about so he was definitely a goner too. While none of this was actually official yet, Amanda could see the writing on the wall. Chelsea got what she wanted, Amanda gone from the hospital, unemployed, and it was all her doing. Surprisingly, Amanda was okay with it, and there were a few reasons behind that.

The first reason is the pettiest and most childish of all the reasons. Being a paramedic was fun, rewarding, humbling, and generally what Amanda wanted to do. There was nothing in this world she wanted more than to be a paramedic, except to be one without any help from the Sons. She never wanted them to know because she wanted to do it on her own and if they knew then they would get involved somehow and ultimately ruin everything. It might be unfair to expect that of the Sons but look at today as evidence. The one time Amanda gets a call that relates to the Sons at all she ends up with a dislocated shoulder, a bullet wound, and on the verge of losing the job that she's wanted since she was eight.

The second reason is despite everything that was going on; she couldn't deny the relief that she didn't have to keep the secret anymore. No more wondering whether or not today would be the day they found out and ruined everything. The third and final reason was all the free time she was suddenly going to have, and what she was planning on doing with it.

Justin finally arrived with the appropriate supplies after about 20 minutes. Grady appeared shortly afterward, goofy smile intact as he bravely positioned his body in between Amanda and the Sons so he could reset her shoulder, and then hold her hand as Justin fixed her stitches. She mildly appreciated his action but had a hard time keeping her attention from Gear's surly form. His hazel eyes never strayed from hers. His handsome face was set in a stern, frustrated, yet worried expression that made her feel oddly protected. His stance was imposing. Arms crossed, leaning against the wall, the blood on his shirt with his cut gave him an added edge to the attitude that dared anyone to fuck with him.

If Amanda didn't know him, she'd think he was a cold-hearted man that did terrible, awful things for kicks and paid to be an ultra assassin or something. He certainly had that look about him. Amanda did know him though, and Gear simply wasn't that type of man. Looking at him now, she almost wished he was. It would be so much easier to ignore him if she knew he was nothing more than what he looked like. To her annoyance, she found that despite the madness of what Justin and Grady were doing to fix her injuries; she couldn't stop looking at him.

She hated to admit it, but whenever he held her earlier, she wanted to lean in, hold him tight and never let go. It felt so good, so right to be near him again. For a few seconds, she didn't care that he was in SAMCRO and that she was supposed to hate him. All she cared about was that feeling of home that for so long she's been without. Then reality came crashing in, and that feeling was gone.

Both Justin and Grady were quick and thorough when fixing Amanda. She was set up with a new sling, new bandages, and a new bottle of antibiotics. Justin forced her to take the prescribed dose before they ventured out of the room. He and Grady stayed behind the clean the room while Amanda was once again left at the mercy of the Sons.

Gear placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and led her through the hallways of the hospital and back upstairs to the maternity ward where Gemma was waiting. Her natural scowl firmly in place as Amanda sat down on one of the waiting chairs, refusing to look at anyone. Try as she might, she couldn't tune out their conversation.

"What happened?" Gemma didn't mince words, and Clay didn't disappoint.

"Our kid's been keeping secrets from us."

"Not surprising, been that way since she was 14."

"If you're referring to the dirt bike situation, then technically 13," Amanda added sarcastically.

"You had your chance to talk, now zip it," Clay growled. Amanda rolled her eyes in response.

"What did she do now?"

"Did you hear about the ambulance that was attacked this morning?" Gear interjected.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"She was the driver." Amanda had to look up at Gear's comment, and the look on Gemma's face didn't disappoint.

Shocked was an understatement when describing the look on Gemma's face when she turned to look at Amanda.

"You stole an ambulance?"

"I really must be a disappointment if you honestly believe I'd steal an ambulance."

"She's a paramedic, Gemma," Clay cut in, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She didn't respond for a second, looking back and forth between Clay and Amanda. "She's 19. It's not possible."

Amanda was suddenly faced with a choice. She was overcome with a feeling of purging all of her secrets and now was the perfect time to do so. The cat was out of the bag, but instead of taking her for her word they'd rather believe that she was the same delinquent she's always been. She could tell that Clay was mulling over Gemma's simple fact in her head, and was swaying. What was Amanda to do? With a fuck it all attitude, she stood to her feet and faced them full on.

"Remember all those retreats I went on for band class when I was a freshman?" She started, grabbing their attention. "How about all those long days where I didn't come home until like 10, sometimes midnight."

"And the times you skipped school for some event that didn't exist." Gear added.

"Yep, those too."

"What about it?" Gemma crossed her arms, stepping towards Amanda.

"They weren't for band class; they were for the EMT program at American River College in Sacramento."

"How did you get in without a diploma or a GED?" Gemma growled, staring me down. "You dropped out of school in your sophomore year. You can't have a diploma if you don't graduate."

"I didn't drop out," Amanda said simply, trying to keep a straight face.

"Don't play dumb with me; everyone knows you dropped out 3 years ago-"

"If you're so sure of that then call the school and ask them to fax you a copy of my diploma. I'll give you the machine number to fax it to and everything."

"You think I won't?"

"No, I know you will." Amanda stood her ground, taunting her with her defiance.

Gemma stared at her for a moment with a look that said she didn't know what to do with Amanda. Clay looked frustrated as always, something Amanda had grown used too. Gear looked impassive and for some reason that bothered her. Not one to be trumped, Gemma pulled out her phone and started dialing. Bradley must have stopped by to give it back earlier. Tig sighed as Gemma started talking to the secretary. When prompted, Amanda gleefully gave the number to the fax machine to the office downstairs.

Tig was sent there to retrieve the fax. During his absence, no one spoke. Clay wrapped an arm around Gemma's waist and held her close while she gave Amanda a venomous glare. Gear leaned against the wall again, surveying the area where Tig had left. Amanda stayed put, ignoring the pain her shoulder and the burning sensation in her side. Thankfully Tig was only gone for a few minutes. He went straight to Clay and Gemma, handing them the copy of Amanda's diploma.

Again, no one said a word. Gemma's eyes scanned the copy with studious inspection, and then with furious disbelief.

"You graduated?!"

"Yep," she didn't offer an explanation.

"You graduated from high school in two years?"

"Year and half really," she corrected her, unable to stop the smirk adorning her face.

"So why did you let us believe that you dropped out instead?"

"One, you wouldn't believe that I was smart enough to graduate early, you'd think I'd created a fake diploma so I didn't have to keep going to school and force me to go back until I went all four years. Two, I didn't want to risk interference from any of you while achieving my dream, and finally because I just didn't want you guys to know." She shrugged my shoulders, not backing down from Gemma's shocked, frustrated glare.

"So you were never going to tell us?"

"If my truck wasn't loaded with bullets this morning, than no I probably wouldn't have told any of you." Amanda paused, appraising the looks of betrayal and anger from the group in front of her before continuing, "If it makes you feel better, I wasn't planning on telling anyone. The only reason Hale and Tara know is because I work with them."

Gemma was not appeased, nor was any of the group. Clay glared at Amanda while shaking his head, clearly disappointed. Tig was looking up and down the hall, wanting desperately out of this conversation. Gemma had the gall to look betrayed as she meekly fought Clay's hold. Gear's expression frustrated Amanda, for he remained impassive, completely unreadable.

The sound of a throat clearing shifted Amanda's focus. She turned to see where it came from and groaned in annoyance. Chelsea, first class bitch and ultimate ice queen, stood before her with a cruel smirk on her face. Her blonde hair was pulled back in an elegant bun, not a hair out of place. She wore a cream pant suit that accentuated what little curves she had to the fullest. Her makeup was on point, and her attitude was sharp. She knew she looked hot, and she made sure she showed off what God graced her with the cruel click of her 3 inch matching heels.

"Well, well, well, Amanda Burke consorting with the outlaws, how surprising." She clicked over to Amanda, her eyes wide with malice, appraising her injuries.

"My, my, and keeping secrets too?" Those cold eyes returned to Amanda's after a moment of further appraisal, impending victory shining bright.

"What do you want, Chelsea?"

"It's Ms. Darrow to you," she retorted quickly, "and I wanted to see what happened to you. Detective Hale sounded very concerned over your well being when speaking to me about your….injuries."

"It's Deputy Hale. If you're going to mock someone then do it properly. Otherwise you're only making yourself out to be more of a stupid bitch then you already are."

Chelsea's smirk disappeared at Amanda's comment, and despite the fact that this was a very serious situation; Amanda couldn't stop a smile from forming.

"And from what I've heard he didn't talk to you about my injuries, but rather ripping you a new one from falsely placing me on suspension for something I had no control of."

"You might not have had control over which criminal attempted to kill you, but you did have control over revealing pertinent details of the event, details such as these blatant injuries that somehow went unreported." She gestured to Amanda's bloody shirt and mangled shoulder, her smirk back in full force.

"What injuries?" Gear spoke up, and Amanda blinked, staring at him in shock.

He abandoned his perch on the wall and sauntered towards the pair, standing resolutely behind Amanda. He eyes were piercing, arms crossed, and his stance intimidating. Chelsea looked flustered, and Amanda didn't know what to do.

"What?" Chelsea squawked, clearing her throat before repeating in a calmer, more feminine tone, "What do you mean?"

"What injuries went unreported?" Gear continued.

"Why her shoulder of course-"

"But if that were the case, then how did the Deputy Chief know about the injury?"

She didn't respond. Her mouth opened slightly, like she was trying to say something but nothing would come out. Eventually nonverbal sounds escaped as straightened her back as she attempted to gain back control when Gear spoke again.

"As for the blood clearly seen on her shirt, that was due to Amanda's bravery and quick thinking when helping her fellow paramedics save an unborn child from his mother's selfish negligence."

"You mean-"

"The pregnant lady that OD'd and whose son is now 10 weeks premature, the same son who has a tear in his abdomen and a congenital heart defect and who is currently being worked on by the prestigious Dr. Namid and company." Amanda added, trying her best to not glare at Gear for getting involved.

Chelsea sputtered again, her mouth trying to make words come out but nothing came of it.

"I'm sure if you asked Deputy Chief Hale he will gladly grant you a copy of his statement with my reported injury intact, same with my fellow paramedics who I helped with the unconscious patient." Amanda paused, seeing the increasing doubt in Chelsea's eyes, "though from the look of unease on your face, I'm sure they already have. So if you're done with the interrogation, I have an argument that needs finishing," Amanda gestured towards Gemma, and knew without looking that Gemma would be glaring the shit out of her for that.

Chelsea let out a breath, taking a couple of steps until she was inches from Amanda. Even in those ridiculous shoes, Chelsea still had to crane her neck to look eye to eye with Amanda.

"One day, and that day will come, I'm going to bury you like the disgusting convict that you are."

"Despite popular belief, I've never been arrested. So, how can I be a convict when I've never been convicted of a crime?"

"Take a look at those around you, at all the people you consort with. They're criminals, and therefore trash. Disgusting simpletons who belong in the gutter they'll never crawl out of."

"The only person in this room that truly disgusts me is you, Ms. Darrow," Amanda's fists stiffened, and she ignored the pain in her shoulder as she straightened her back slightly, staring down at the ice queen with all the rage and malice she could no longer hide. "I don't care how much shit you have to say about me or to my face, but the next time you speak ill of my friends and family, you will regret it."

"Is that a threat?" Her expression retained some of its unease, but the quirk of her mouth said a different story.

"No ma'am, just some advice. You say I'm some disgusting convict based on the people I spend my time with? Well, some of those people are merely feet away from you, and they have kindly displayed an amazing amount of restraint from decking you despite the derogatory slurs you have repeatedly said in a manner of seconds about them and others they care about." Amanda paused, appraising Chelsea. "Does that seem like a smart thing to you? Poking the outlaws?"

Once again Chelsea didn't respond, only glared at Amanda with all her might. She glanced around at the crowd around them, and backed away slowly, the clicking of those ridiculous heels sounding like music to Amanda's ears.

"I expect a full report of the incident by end of day," Chelsea growled before turning away abruptly, her ass twitching away in her haste.

Though she knew she couldn't see it, Amanda gave her a half-hearted salute. She sighed in relief when the ice queen disappeared around the corner, her muscles relaxing as she tilted her head back to look at the ceiling. Her shoulder protested, but she couldn't care less.

"Is that your boss?" Gemma asked, and Amanda looked to see her anger had subsided.

"Yep," Amanda responded.

"Is she always like this?"

"Only when she's breathing," her head tilted back again, filling her lungs with air until she felt they were going to burst before blowing it out, slowly.

"You going to bury her?" Gear's voice was close to Amanda, and she took her time before looking at him.

"You have no idea."


	6. Can I Go to Sleep Now?

**Gear**

It was like nothing had changed. Despite all the pain and suffering the two had gone through, Amanda was still Amanda, and Gear was still Gear. At least that's what it felt like when they waited to hear news about Abel. Clay and Tig had left a while ago once Gemma calmed down and wasn't on the verge of ripping Amanda's head off. Gear wanted to stay until Amanda got home safe, but Clay had other ideas.

"Once you hear news about Abel, good or bad, you take her back to your place."

"You sure that's a good idea-"

"I don't care if it's a good idea or not. Tonight she's staying with you, end of story."

"What do you want me to tell her? She's not going to go for this, you know that."

"Figure it out man," was Tig's unhelpful response when Clay leaned close to whisper, "I don't care what you tell her or don't tell her, as long as she's away from her place tonight."

"You guys gonna search it?"

"She's been keeping secrets from us, big ones. This gig she's got might not seem like a big deal but if she's been able to hide this under our noses for months, then there's no telling how much other shit she's been keeping from us."

"What if you're wrong? What if this is the only thing she's been hiding?"

"Then she's got nothing to worry about."

"If she finds out you guys did this, shit's going to be even worse between us than they already are." Gear risked a glance back in her direction, relieved to find that she wasn't paying attention to them. She was trying to stay awake, forcing those beautiful eyes of hers to stay open. She had been dead on her feet swaying unsteadily while trying to remain composed enough to look okay, but no one was fooled. Gemma made her sit down and since then she's been fighting a losing battle. It was then, staring once more at that gorgeous face that an idea came to mind.

"What if I stay at her place?" He turned back to Clay, who was slightly confused.

"What do you mean?"

"She's dead on her feet, meaning she's probably running on zero sleep plus caffeine and sugar. If I take her to my place she'll freak, and put up resistance. If I take her back to her place she likely won't suspect anything, and once she crashes I'll take a look around. You'll get answers without breaking her trust, I'll get to see inside her apartment and, most importantly, keep her safe."

Clay remained silent, considering Gear's plea, while Tig brought up a question of his own.

"What if she sees through it?"

"If she does she's in no position to do anything about it. She'll probably chalk it up to lack of sleep with the way she's going, or she'll put up a fight. If it's the latter, then I'll take her back to my place and you guys can snoop around."

"Path of the least resistance," Clay inquired, his eyebrow cocked.

"That's the way I'll go."

Clay thought on it for a moment before curtly nodding, "let us know what happens. If you need any backup, call Chibs and Bobby."

"You got it," Gear nodded before quickly heading back to Amanda, taking his abandoned seat next to her fatigued form. Clay said his goodbyes to Gemma before heading out with Tig. From that point on the three waited it out.

They didn't say much during the stay, but Amanda didn't speak at all. At least not to Gemma or Gear. Justin stopped by after a while so he could get her statement signed, sealed, and delivered to their fucked up boss.

Chelsea Darrow. Ice Queen might have suited those cold eyes and the stiff way she held herself, but psychotic and delusional were far better descriptors of that woman's disposition, if she was even a woman at all. It pained Gear to think of Amanda having to deal with someone like that after all the hard work she put in to do this job, but the pain didn't last when he thought about how she handled her boss.

That was the Amanda he knew and remembered; tough, cunning, stubborn, and loyal to a fault. Even after all this time, Amanda still thought of them as family, of him as a friend. That part stung more than he cared to admit. He was lucky she still thought of him in any form of positive light, it was delusional to think she would have thought of him as more. Still, the little boy inside of him that grew up idolizing her, wanting to be with her with every fiber of his being, hoped for more. For now though, knowing that there was still a small part of her that thought of him that way, he could handle being her friend, and only her friend.

He tried not to think about the future, and how his patience will inevitably wane considering his feelings towards her. She's been through too much. So much pain and loss no one should have to endure let alone a child on her 10th birthday. Kidnapped and held captive for a month enduring God knows what only to escape and find out your parents are dead. It was unfair, it was wrong, and Amanda deserved better.

Gear tried his best over the years to be there for her, and for the most part he succeeded. Even when she kept her secrets and spent time by herself, away from Gear, he was there for her. Maybe that's why she still saw him as her friend? If that was the case, then he was proud, happy, and very lucky.

After Justin left with her statement, no one else approached the group until one of the nurses arrived with a grim face. There was little news to give on Abel as he was still in surgery, and it was best that everyone head on home. At this point it was a miracle that Amanda could still keep her eyes open, let alone pay attention to what was happening.

When the nurse left to make her rounds, Gemma stood, "Okay kids, let's get you home."

"Okay," started Amanda, slowly and carefully moving out of her chair, "I'll call Justin, he'll give me a ride."

"No, I'm taking you home." Gear interjected before Gemma could.

That statement woke Amanda up, her wide eyes fixed on Gear, "the fuck you are."

"Either I take you home, or you're coming home with me."

"Why, so Clay can have one of his cronies snoop around my place to see what other shit I've been keeping from you?"

Damn she was good, "why do you ask? You got something worth hiding?"

"Not anymore" she grumbled, glaring at him, "you're not staying the night with me."

"Then it looks like you're staying the night with me." Gear countered, and the anger growing behind those emerald eyes was truly a sight to see.

"I am not going anywhere with you-"

"Yes you are." Gear responded as she stood unsteadily in front of him, her fatigue starting to severely affect her equilibrium. Didn't diminish her anger though.

"No, I'm not," she almost shouted, stepping up close so that she was inches away from him.

He crossed his arms and stared down at her beautiful face, his gaze unwittingly fixed on her lips. What he would give to see her smile again. What he would give to feel those lips on his. What he would give to call her his. He mentally shook himself, _stay focused_ he thought before responding.

"Amanda, someone tried to kill you this morning. Your shoulder is busted, you were shot," he whispered that part, "lost a lot of blood, and you're dead on your feet. You're in no shape to drive and your friends have already done enough today." He paused, appraising her expression. She was still angry, but when he mentioned her friends the resistance started to melt away. She knew he was right. "You can hate it all you want but I'm not letting you out of my sight, not until we figure out exactly what happened and why they went after you."

"They went after me because I arrived on scene before they could bounce. That's it."

"Maybe, but we don't know that for sure and until we do you're stuck with me."

"Screw you-" Amanda was saying before cut her off once more.

"You have two choices in front of you, and no you're not going to make a third option because tonight is only going to end one of two ways. Either I take you home and stay at your place, or I take you to my place and you stay with me. End of discussion."

"Fuck you, asshole. I'm not going anywhere with you."

"If you don't choose I will choose for you," he gestured to her shoulder, "and with that busted shoulder you're not going to be able to stop me if I decide to pick you up and carry you out of here."

"Ooh, great plan, until we reach your bike. How are you going to force me to stay on when you have to kick start it?"

"You'll be waiting with me of course, unless you want him to follow behind us while I drive you home." Gemma cut in, hands on her hips, a steely look in her eyes.

Amanda looked at her in shock for a second, frustrated disbelief quickly followed by recognition crossed her expression, and Gear knew that he had won. Having Gemma side with him made Amanda's decision, and he would have kissed her right then if he thought Clay wouldn't deck him for it. Didn't stop him from winking at her though, and she smiled in return. Amanda looked back and forth between the pair, livid as she subtly clenched her free hand.

"Face it darling, either he's rooming with you at your place, his place, or we can have a party at mine. Your choice."

"It looks like you got your third option after all," Gear smiled at Amanda, who did not appreciate the gesture.

"C'mon, let's head on downstairs, give you time to think about your choices." Gemma stepped forward, placed a gentle hand on Amanda's good shoulder.

At first, Amanda didn't move, merely glared at Gear who stood resolutely in response. Then, after a not so gentle push from Gemma, she started walking down the hallway, not once looking back. It was a surprisingly short trip considering how big the hospital was, but sure enough, before he knew it Gear and company were in front of the hospital where his bike and Gemma's caddy were haphazardly parked. He straddled his bike kick started it with ease, and looked expectantly at a frowning Amanda.

"Where to darling," he yelled over the roar of the engine, and she visibly groaned before reluctantly walking over.

"Your place," she growled, swinging her leg over the backseat, her good hand grabbing hold of his cut.

He nodded briefly, grabbing hold of the helmet hanging loosely on the handlebars and handing it to her.

She looked at him in disbelief, "seriously?"

"Just put it on, Amanda."

She grumbled something he didn't catch before grabbing the helmet and roughly placing it on her head. He turned back to help her with the straps, and she glared at him while he did. He returned her glare with an amused smile before turning back to rev the engine.

"You ready?!"

"No." Her response was curt, and he laughed in return.

With that, they were flying. It always felt like that when he road, but tonight it felt more surreal. This whole day had been one surprise after another. From the warehouse explosion, the charred remains of those girls, Wendy's overdose, the bombshell of Amanda's role in the explosion, her injuries, her secret career exposed, Abel's life still hanging in the balance. It was a miracle that they were still able to function after everything that's happened, let alone laughs or seethe over the current situation.

He could feel Amanda's warmth at his back, her hand once more holding onto his cut as they raced through the gleaming streets of Charming. The sun was beginning its slow descent, approaching the angle where it would blind Gear if he didn't hurry. Thankfully, the ride from the hospital to his place was short, and he didn't need to worry about the sun.

Amanda on the other hand….

The moment he pulled into the parking complex and stopped the bike she practically jumped away from him like a cat falling into a bathtub full of water. For a second he thought he might have to jump after her, but with a relieved sigh he saw her stop a few yards away from him, her good hand angrily pulling off the black, shiny helmet. He couldn't help but laugh at her behavior, kicking it up a notch at the glare she sent him.

"Dick," she growled, throwing the helmet at him as he turned off the engine and kicked out the stand. He barely had time to catch it, and he laughed once more as he put it back in its place on the handlebars.

"C'mon, let's go inside." He held out his hand to her, but she refused as she walked ahead of him.

His apartment was on the second floor of a building that only held two apartments. The one below him was currently vacated so technically he had the building all to himself. The stairs were made of rusting metal, shaped in a spiral, and creaked with every step. When Amanda walked up they made the slightest noise of resistance, when he used the stairs they screamed at him but he didn't notice. All of his attention was on Amanda's perfect ass.

Her jeans didn't do it justice, and perhaps that was the point. He remembered distinctly how it looked when she was in that swimsuit a couple summers ago, and despite the bagginess he could see that it was more toned than before, meaning she worked out. The images that flooded through his mind had him pausing at the top of the stairs, collecting himself.

 _Get a hold of yourself_ he thought before taking the last few steps to his door, Amanda waiting reluctantly.

He slid the key in and turned, "you hungry?" he asked as the door clicked and swung open.

She didn't answer, just turned away and looked longingly at the horizon. The sun was at the blinding angle that Gear was desperate to avoid on the way to his place. The painful light made him see bright spots when he blinked, but with the way it shined on Amanda's beautiful face, he'd take 10 times the pain just to watch her all day.

The expression she wore said more than was intended which wasn't surprising. To the world, Amanda's emotions were walled off with stones that would put The Great Wall of China to shame, but for Gear she was an open book. Maybe it was because they knew each other so well or maybe it was because he was always so perceptive of her, especially after her kidnapping. It didn't matter, what mattered was that Amanda could never truly hide from Gear, and vice versa. More than likely it was the reason behind her avoidance of him over the last few years, or it was something else entirely.

Studying her face, he was expecting something different. Instead of reluctant and resentful, there was longing and sadness. Instead of an _anywhere but here_ type of expression, it was more of _I wish I was there._ Where did she want to be? He stepped forward slightly, stopping before he got too close.

"Don't worry, once we get everything figured out, you'll be home soon enough." He said, attempting to comfort her.

She sighed, "It's not that." She walked towards the railing, leaning the rusted metal with her good arm.

When she didn't elaborate, Gear moved to lean next to her, "so what is it?"

Something crossed her expression, resistance maybe? She bit her bottom lip, a flush went through him whenever she did that, and then she sighed again. "I'm a paramedic. My schedule is hectic as shit. If I'm not working I'm either running errands or paying bills. When I'm not doing that I grab an hour or two of sleep before the next shift starts, and then it's just a cruel, endless cycle. I only get one or two days off a week if I'm lucky, and every time I do I go to the coast with Bradley. If Justin and Grady are free they'll come to," she added the last part nonchalantly, like she almost forgot about them before continuing. "Whenever I'm there nothing else matters, just the waves crashing all around me, the sand beneath my toes, the jokes and the insults that fly between us. No carnage, no drama, no one trying to off themselves, no bleach blonde bitches trying to get me fired, just me and my friends, and nothing else.

"It's the only time I get to see the sun set, and truly experience it's magnificence. To truly appreciate its beauty, and the gravity it brings when the darkness follows." She stopped, a slight smile adorning her face, the light from the sun shining in her flowing hair.

Speechless, Gear stared in awe at the perfection of her. His hand reached out to touch those golden locks, to tangle them in their golden excellence, but pulled away and shoved it in his back pocket, shame welling up in his chest.

"You'll get back there," he choked out, looking away from her to collect his thoughts.

"Not with this busted shoulder," she grumbled. Out of the corner of his eye she pushed away from the railing, turning away from him abruptly. "Let's get inside before I fall on the railing."

Gear didn't miss the sudden change in attitude, but ignored it as he gestured towards the open entryway to his apartment.

Amanda collapsed in the nearest chair upon entering his home, not even bothering to take off her shoes as she collapsed in the wooden chair at the dining table and fell into a deep, deep sleep that she more than earned. Her golden head rested on her good arm as she slumped onto the oak panel. Gear took the opportunity to shoot Clay a text letting him know what went down and turn on the TV. He heated up some chicken soup from the night before and poured himself a bowl before taking a seat next to her at the table.

He tried to nudge her awake, but it was hopeless. She was fully unconscious, and he didn't want to disturb her, even if it was to make sure she ate something somewhat healthy. So after a few weak attempts he gave up and ate his soup in silence, not really paying attention to whatever movie was playing.

Once he was done he swooped in and picked her up, holding her steady in his strong arms. He was surprised at how light she was as he carried her the short distance to his room. Once he set her down his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Clay.

"What's up?" Gear whispered as he stuck the phone in the crook of neck as he started taking off her worn boots.

"We got a problem." Clay's gruff voice sounded through the speaker. "Turns out Amanda has been shacking up with her fellow paramedics. We're not gonna be able to sneak in tonight."

"I'll take a look around when I drop her off in the morning."

"No, I want you to bring her here. Gemma's gonna keep an eye on her until we figure out what to do with the Mayans."

"Alright," Gear mumbled, placing the boots on the floor near the entryway as walked towards the hallway closet, "how's Jax doing?"

"Last I heard he went to talk to Opie. Not a word since. He should be on his home about now though."

"And Gemma? How is she handling Amanda's bombshell today?"

"Well she's not looking to rip our kid's hair out anymore if that's what you mean," Clay chuckled through the phone as Gear grabbed one of Amanda's old blanket and unfolded it. "How's the kid doing?"

"Out like a light. I'm taking the couch tonight."

"Good man," Clay chuckled as Gear laid out the red and black plaid blanket over Amanda's sleeping body, "you ever gonna make the move?"

"If it were up to me she'd already be my wife, Clay, you know that." Gear whispered as he turned to face away from her, "and I'm not gonna force her to be with me when she's not interested."

"I know, I know, but kid you might have to. If you don't some jerk off is gonna sweep her off her feet and take her away from you. Do you really want that?"

"Do I want her to find a man that loves her with every fiber of his being, worships the ground she walks on, and treats her with the respect she more than deserves? Yes, I want that for her, even if it's not with me."

"Well, for your sake, I hope the man she chooses is you."

"Me too, man. Me too."


	7. Say You'll Haunt Me

**Amanda**

When Amanda woke up hours later, the first thing she noticed was not the pain singing away in her shoulder, or the crude wetness in her side. It was not the sheen of sweat clinging to her skin, or the dim light from the Darth Vader lamp on the bed-stand. It was the warm comfort of Gear's bed swaddling her like a baby, and it sent her into a terrified, anxiety ridden panic.

Her eyes shot open at the same time her body catapulted itself out of the warm halo she was resting in. Her feet were caught in the blanket and she fell to the floor with a loud thud as a result. A screech of pain escaped from Amanda's lips, but she was too freaked out to care. Images of cruel, smiling faces with sickening gleeful eyes staring down at her with glee flooded her mind. She could feel their slimy hands trying to grab her, pull her to them, throw her on the bed and trap her. Their laughter was all she could hear as she screamed "Get off me!" over and over again. She crawled away from the bed and leaned against the wall, unbuckling the sling in the same breath and throwing it across the room as she looked for a quick exit.

There was crash outside of the room and thundering steps in the hallway. Amanda's eyes widened as she used the wall for support in her effort to stand, her good hand reaching out towards the nearest window. She felt the cold glass just as the door burst open with a shattering kick. She turned to break the window with her elbow, the glass giving easily and falling to the wooden paneling outside. Firm hands grabbed her at the waist just as her head made it out of the window. They pulled her back in easily, and she turned to fight her attacker with a now bloody fist to his face.

Her captor dodged easily, using her momentum against her as he pulled her down to the ground and mounted her in the same breath. Panicked increased, breathing now painful, she ignored her pain and tried to fight him off, cursing herself for letting him get the better of her. He was yelling at her, but she didn't care what he was saying. He caught her hands and pinned them on either side of her head, his legs trapping hers together. She was caught, she knew it, but she wouldn't give up. She didn't give up then and she won't give up now. No one is going to hurt her, not like they did to those girls, not like they tried to do to her all those years ago. She fought them off then, she can do it now.

Suddenly her hands were released and her face was captured in warm, calloused hands, forcing her to look at him.

"Manny!"

Gear's face shattered her will to fight. Her entire body immediately relaxed, sinking into the floor like a melting popsicle stick. His grey eyes were huge with worry and confusion. Her breathing automatically slowed, her heart no longer acting the Looney Tune and beating out of her chest. Panic slowly seeping away as recognition flooded her mind.

"Peter?" her voice was meek, timid, scared.

"Yes," his thumb started caressing her cheek, one of his hands tangling themselves in her hair. "What happened? Are you okay?"

She didn't respond. The full realization of the last minute or so rushed through her mind, and shame welled up in her chest as she closed her eyes, attempting to shut him away. It was no use. The feel of him on top of her, protecting her, could not be easily ignored no matter how hard she tried.

"I'm fine," she lied, hoping he didn't see through it. Even if he did, she wouldn't tell him the truth, no matter how hard hiding it might be.

"What happened?" He asked again, "Was someone in here?"

"No," she stopped him before he got ahead of himself, "just a bad dream."

He didn't respond immediately, and she opened her eyes to see his worry, a flash of teeth as he slightly bit his top lip. He did that when he was trying not to say something, nervous tick kind of thing. In the past that would annoy the shit out of her, unless they were playing poker or something. Now, she was anxious, wondering what he was thinking.

"Do these dreams happen a lot?" He eventually spoke, and she tried to not look so relieved.

"You can say that," she muttered, closing her eyes again. "How long have I been out?"

His hand moved to look at his watch, "little over 10 hours."

"Seriously? That's a record."

"Considering you were running on sugar and caffeine, and just finished a very hectic shift where you were shot and dislocated your shoulder, I'd say it was well earned." He paused, looking at the shoulder in question, "Where's your sling?"

"It was in the way, so I ripped it off and threw it somewhere." She grunted. Now that the adrenaline from her panic had faded, the pain was suddenly at the forefront of her mind, but something else concerned Gear more as his gaze moved from her face to her arm. She looked to see blood drying around the cut in her elbow, and the shirt she never changed from yesterday was once again wet with fresh, sticky blood. It was a good thing the floor was made of wood paneling because there's no way Gear would be able to get the stain out otherwise.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." He pulled her up to her feet, carefully placing his hands on the few areas that were not injured, and led her to the bathroom to wash up.

A few hours later, with a change of clothes that smelled far too much like Gear and some food in her belly that wasn't sugar based, she was once again on the back of his bike, and more than a little pissed off. After cleaning up he informed her that she would not be going back to her place, but to Teller-Morrow where Gemma can keep an eye on her and Chibs can stitch up her new wound. It was Clay's orders, which meant he had to follow them, no matter how much of a struggle Amanda put up. Besides, with the way she acted this morning, and how he easily forgave the broken window and wiped the blood off her skin and gave her a new shirt to wear, she really didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to being a bitch to him today.

So when it came time to leave, she went on his bike as willingly as she could allow herself, meaning she kept her mouth shut and wore the stupid helmet without complaint. With her arm once again back in its sling, her free hand held onto the back of his cut as he weaved through the streets of Charming. A few times she saw people she recognized, and they recognized her in return. Their eyes went wide with recognition, then fear when they realized who she was with. It made her sigh with amusement. They looked at Gear and saw a Son who would kill you for looking at him twice, but in reality he was the Star Wars loving nerd with a Darth Vader lamp on his bedside table.

They arrived at Teller-Morrow in record time, and Amanda was glad that most of the Sons were either gone or too busy to take notice of their arrival. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Gemma, who was waiting with a stern look and hands on her hips. She started strutting towards them as he backed into his space. Once the engine was off and the kickstand was out, she was practically pulling Amanda off the bike.

"You two were supposed to be here an hour ago," she growled as Amanda took off the helmet.

"Sorry Gemma, kind of had a rude awakening," Amanda apologized, setting the helmet on Gear's handlebars as he walked around them.

"What do you mean-" she was saying when Amanda showed off her brand new war wound by using her hand to block the burning sun from her eyes. "What happened this time?"

"She fell off the bed when she woke up this morning, landed on one of my beer bottles," Gear answered before Amanda had the chance. She caught herself looking at him, quickly looking away when she realized how obvious she suddenly was.

"I got it cleaned up as much as I could, but I'm going to see if Chibs is around so he can stitch her up."

"He's in the garage," Gemma gestured to the garage with a nod, moving slightly when Gear started walking her way.

He glanced at Amanda as he walked off, and that one look gave her feels that she didn't want or understand. Gemma stood next to her, studying her face.

"How was last night?"

"Fine, considering I had no choice in the matter."

"You two do anything?"

Amanda turned to look at Gemma skeptically, "No."

"You sure? You two seem to be less distant than yesterday."

"I literally collapsed on his dining room table from exhaustion, so unless he pulled some weird voodoo magic to make me _less distant_ while I was passed out than yeah, I'm pretty sure we didn't do anything last night."

Gemma held up her hands in defeat, "Fine, I was just curious."

"Well you know what they say about curiosity."

Gemma let out a chuckle, "C'mon, let's wait in the clubhouse," her hand landed on Amanda's good shoulder. She not-so-gently pulled Amanda along down the parking lot, nodding to a few people who were milling about as they went passed. Soon enough they were at the big black door leading into the clubhouse, and the strong smell of smoke, cologne, motor oil, and whiskey filled Amanda's senses, stunning her as Gemma pulled her through the door.

The first thing Amanda noticed after the blast to her senses was the wall of mug shots, hanging solidly on the far wall with dust clinging to the frames. Her father's picture hung among them, his grey eyes full of mischief as he smiled sarcastically for the camera. It was taken right before he got one of his canines shoved down his throat in a drunken brawl that occurred a few weeks later. His blonde curls were starting to grow out again, the same curls he gave to Amanda. She had his eyes too, his athletic ability, mechanical prowess (she even taught him a thing or two before he was tragically killed), and though she'd never admit it, the same mischievous spirit. Aside from the hair and the eyes, she looked just like her mom though, who disappeared soon after he died. She calls every once in awhile, normally when she's on something that made her feel nostalgic; otherwise she's nothing but an old memory for Amanda. Their names were Lachlan and Avery Burke, and for the brief time Amanda had them, they were the best parents she could ask for.

Looking at her father's mug shot caused a sharp pain to roll through her chest, like a rolling pin flattening dough, and suddenly it was very hard to breathe. Gemma didn't notice, or ignored Amanda's hesitation as she pulled her towards the tables where some of the Sons were. She didn't bother to look at them, her eyes glued to her Father's face as if they were a lifeline. She hasn't been inside the clubhouse since he died, she should be looking around to see all the things that have changed and stayed the same, but she couldn't. Through all these years she never gave a thought to her Father, trying to find ways and avenues so as to not think about him, and how much she missed him. Now, through prolonged ignorance, she was consumed with a multitude of emotions that burned through her like acid. The only thing that stopped her from fainting or breaking down on the spot was Bobby's voice yelling "As I live and breathe" before he walked over to pull her into a hug.

This was not the reception she was expecting, and normally she would be against it (she hated being touched, the only person who got away with it was Gear, and her Dad when he was alive) but considering it was this intrusion that pulled her away from the edge of a breakdown, she welcomed it. He smelled of his cigars, and his crazy, graying hair was bigger than ever. His calloused hand rubbed the back of her neck as he pulled away to look at her with happy, yet intense eyes.

"Where have you been, kid?"

"Working" Amanda responded bluntly, shrugging nonchalantly and wincing as a result.

"What happened, you get into a fight on your to Gear's?" The joy disappeared from his eyes as a serious gloom shadowed his face as he eyed her new wound.

"No, just some broken glass on top of a really shitty 24 hours." She revealed her new war wound to him, and continued when his eyes grew angrier, "Gear went to find Chibs."

"Good," he grumbled, waving his hand towards the nearest table, "go on and take a seat, ladies. I'll see you around."

"Where you headed?" Amanda asked, now noticing the duffel sitting on the bar next to him, and ignoring the sharp look Gemma gave her.

"Gig in Tahoe," he put his fingers to mouth and whistled sharply, "C'mon prospect, I ain't got all day!"

The Prospect in question was a wiry dude around Amanda's age only a few years older. He had that eager, excited look in his eye that projected how happy he was to be doing something, to be considered useful. Amanda felt a surprising surge of pity for him before Gemma pulled her along towards the table.

"Take care, Amanda" Bobby departed with a gentle squeeze to her neck as he left without his duffel, which the prospect grabbed in his rush.

"Poor kid," Amanda mumbled as she sat down.

Gemma looked confused, "Who, the prospect?"

"You see any other idiots chasing after a duffel bag like it's filled with treasure?"

"He's just excited. He's been doing nothing but sweeping and cleaning shit for weeks. To be doing something productive, even something as meaningless as driving to Tahoe with Bobby, it's a huge step. It shows the club sees him as an asset."

"By asset you mean errand boy?"

"For now. He keeps proving himself; they'll see him as more." She pulled out a cigarette, "want one?"

"Pass" Amanda looked away from Gemma, and regretted it when her gaze once again landed on her Father's mug shot on the wall. Her chest tightened again, pain welling up as her fists tightened. Try as she did, she just couldn't look away, even as Gemma blew smoke in her face. It must have been a sold minute, maybe two, before Gemma's patience cracked.

"What's going on with you?" Her eyes studied her when Amanda didn't answer, eventually following her line of sight and seeing what Amanda was focused on. Her response was a sigh, and slight lowering of her shoulders as she turned to speak again. "When's the last time you were in here?"

"I don't know, maybe was when I was dodging that asshole who was cheating on his girlfriend, can't remember how long ago that was though."

"Did you hide out in here," she took a drag from her cigarette.

"No," Amanda growled, "I hid in your office and filed some paperwork to pass the time."

"So the last time you were here?"

"Based on your expression I'm sure you already know the answer." She finally forced herself to look away from his mug shot, even turning in her chair to face away from the wall with a loud screech as the wooden pegs scratched across the floor's surface. Gemma didn't stop her. In fact, there was a look on her face reminded her of Gear whenever he was trying to keep his mouth shut without being too obvious about it. She thought she was seeing it wrong, briefly thinking she must have gotten a concussion on top of all her other injuries because there was no way the most direct and blunt woman in the universe could be holding back her words just for the sake of Amanda's feelings.

Sure enough, Gemma let loose, "so Lachlan, huh? He the reason you've been avoiding this place all these years?"

Amanda didn't respond, adjusting the sling on her shoulder instead to alleviate some of the pain that was starting to grow. It didn't help, but it gave her something to focus on other than Gemma, who wasn't backing down.

"There's nothing more important than family, Amanda. Your Dad knew that-"

"I know" Amanda interrupted, fighting to keep her voice down, "it's what got him killed."

"Loving you didn't kill him, baby" Gemma said after a pause, and in that pause the door slammed opened with brute force, and Chibs stomped in with Gear in tow, both looking more than a little frustrated and stressed out. Their expressions lightened slightly as they approached Amanda, but she knew better than to fall for their poker faces.

"Little Poppy, it's been a long time" Chibs called her by her childhood nickname as he leaned down to give Gemma a brief hug before pulling out the chair between them, and practically falling into it with a loud thud. He grabbed her good hand and kissed her fingers before lifting it up to assess the damage around her elbow.

"You're still calling me that?" She asked through gritted teeth as his fingers prodded the cuts while Gear took the seat beside her, fighting to hide his smile.

"Of course I am, and I always will. Not my fault you decided to hide in a Poppy bush to avoid going back to school for the day."

"That was the last field trip you were allowed to go on for that year if I remember correctly," Gemma added, smirking as she took another drag from her cigarette.

"I wasn't hiding, I was exploring. Not my fault the teacher was blind as bat and dumber than a sack of rocks." Amanda retorted, "And if I really didn't want to go back, I would have jumped into the back of someone's pickup and hitchhiked somewhere else."

"And that remark is why you were grounded for a month," Gemma chuckled, and Gear joined in. Amanda rolled her eyes in response as her gaze returned to Chibs inspection. He didn't look worried or anything, which helped ease Amanda to a point, but the firm line between his brows kept the butterflies in her stomach fluttering away.

"It's not too deep" he finally said, grabbing a cigarette from the pocket of his cut and lighting it before he continued, "we'll need to clean it out again though to avoid any infection, but after that it needs just a stitch or two for each cut and you're good to go."

"So I can-" Amanda's eyes rose with hope, her full attention on Chibs, when Gemma quickly dashed her hopes.

"No, you can't leave when he's done. You're staying with me for the day."

"I can't stay here all day, I got shit to do that needs to get done."

"Like what?"

"For one I have to talk to Hale and give my official statement about the explosion and the shit that happened with Wendy yesterday."

"I thought you did that already?" Gear cut in, his eyes intense.

"What the paperwork?" He nodded, "no that was for my boss and the hospital. Hale might have talked to me yesterday but that wasn't an official, on-the-record conversation, which means I have to go to the station and get it on record so that his ass doesn't get burned by my boss and my ass is covered, or" she glanced down to her side, "as covered as it can be."

"Speaking of," Chibs stood leaned forward slightly and quickly lifted her shirt to take a glance at her bandages. He lowered her just as quickly that the whole process took a couple seconds, give or take, and left her wondering if it even happened. "Gemma, take her to the apartment, there should be some spare bandages in there. Get those changed up and then I'll get to work on the arm."

As the four left the table, Chibs gave Gemma a certain look before gesturing to Amanda, and Gemma nodded in return. Amanda rolled her eyes as she headed towards the hallway that led towards the bedroom in the clubhouse. They called it the apartment because it's the room that a lot of new members sometimes stay in before the club helps them earn enough money to get a place of their own. There are also the circumstances where a member will take a woman, or "crow-eater" as they so kindly refer to them, to bed for the night. In Jax's case, he's staying here while Wendy lives at his place. Didn't seem fair, it was his house after all, but it wasn't Amanda's decision, or problem. She had plenty of her own to deal with without adding anyone else's to the mix.

When she walked in, the overwhelming scent of man, cologne, and sex stunned her, almost knocking backwards with the powerful punch it gave. She couldn't stop the cough that escaped her, and almost cursed Gemma as the woman pushed her through the threshold. Thankfully, she had a very similar response to the room, and though Amanda's current situation was not amusing at all, she couldn't help but laugh at the stunned, disgusted look on Gemma's normally austere face. _Serves you right,_ she thought as she walked further into the messy room, trying not to think about all the shit the walls could tell her about what they've witnessed in this room.

She unconsciously looked at the bed, and a cold chill rushed down her spine as she remembered her dream from just a few hours ago. The dream that was really a memory she desperately tried to forget, yet continually failed. It was the beds; they always wanted to be comfortable when they fucked the losers, their way of motivating them to win.

On her tenth birthday, Amanda was kidnapped by strange, awful men to a warehouse hours away from Charming, somewhere along the border of Northern California and Oregon. Other kids from the neighboring states were taken there too, ranging from Seattle to Charming. While she was there the men forced their captives to fight. The winners would get food, which was a PB&J sandwich, fruit cup, and a juice box, along with a blanket, a pillow, and a cot to sleep on for the night. The losers would be sent to the mirror room, where beds with chains and handcuffs were held, and cameras constantly recording from nearly every angle of the room.

Amanda won every fight, due to her Dad's paranoia from the growing threats of Samcro's rivals. He taught her the basics on how to defend herself, which helped her in the beginning, but as the weeks went on, and she realized that no one was coming to save her, she had to get resourceful, dirty, and her captors knew it. As time went on, they tried to rig the fights so that could have their way with her, but she thwarted them, constantly at the ready for their schemes. Eventually their patience waned, and they tried to do the worst to her.

She almost lost that night, lost what was most important to her, the only semblance of the girl she used to be when a freak accident occurred. One of the light fixtures fell and killed one of the men, his head caving in upon impact. It distracted her attacker long enough for her to fight him off and grab his keys, locking him in the mirror room before she went to free what was left of her fellow prisoners. She didn't remember much from the days following her escape. To be honest, most of it was a complete blur after the attack until she finally made it home to Charming. Apparently she was driving a stolen car, but she couldn't remember. The only thing she could remember about the night she finally made it home was seeing her father bleeding on the floor, reaching out to her, his eyes full of pain.

She could see it now, whether she wanted to or not, and she certainly did not. She forced herself to turn away from the bed, her complete attention on Gemma as she reached up to grab the medical kit. She set the kit on the only table in the room, pushing aside magazines and food wrappers as she opened the box and rifled through it.

"Here we go" Gemma muttered as she turned towards Amanda, gauze, bandages, and medical tape in hand. "Take off your shirt."

"Can't I just do this in the bathroom, by myself?"

"Why? Get a tattoo during one of your underage drunken escapades you don't want me to know about?"

"Yes, but that's beside the point." Amanda reached her hand out for the bandages, but Gemma pulled her hand away, a stern, unbending look in her eye.

"Take off the shirt or I will do it for you" she threatened and Amanda sighed in frustration.

With her good hand she grabbed the hem of Gear's shirt and pulled upwards. She maneuvered it as carefully as she could where her shoulder was concerned; the hole where her head went was particularly tricky. In a manner of seconds the grey shirt that still smelled too much of him was off, and aside from the black sports bra that was in serious need of a wash, her torso was laid bare for Gemma to see.

Gemma didn't move at first, her eyes taking in the sight before here. Amanda knew what she was seeing, the faded scars from all those years ago that had long since faded but were still dark enough to send people's minds haywire. The one on her front were nothing compared to her back, which had words carved into her skin. At least she assumed they were words, didn't make sense otherwise unless the intent was to draw misshapen spirals and rectangles just to drive her crazy. Hopefully Gemma didn't have to see what was back there; Amanda would never hear the end of it.

It took Gemma a few seconds to move something, anything. Her lips opened to take in a sharp inhale of breath only to exhale it just as sharply. She moved forward, the stern look back in place. "Let's get those changed."

Gemma stayed in front of Amanda the whole time, and for once she was thankful to the woman for keeping some semblance of distance. They worked in silence as Gemma took off the bandages and checked the stitches to see that they were still in place before pouring some peroxide on the wound to prevent infection. Then she wrapped her up in fresh bandages and gauze. Gemma handed her a piece of tape before turning back to gather up the loose, unused supplies.

Amanda attempted to drag on Gear's shirt again, but Gemma stopped her.

"Put that down, you are not wearing anymore hand-me-down shirts, do you understand me?"

"It's the only one I got," Amanda responded in a confused tone, giving the woman a look that questioned her sanity, blaming her scars for the damage.

"No," Gemma smirked, "it's not." She suddenly walked to the door, turning to glance at Amanda, "stay here" and poof! Out the door she went in a flash, leaving Amanda standing there looking like a half finished store manikin.

Without her shirt, and the lingering stench of sex, Amanda felt very uncomfortable. She stood in the same spot for a moment, looking anywhere except the bed. The room really was a mess, clothes thrown about in a careless manner, food wrappers on the table and the edges of the room, and a strange discoloration along the walls. On the wall to the right of her were a dresser and a mural of photos. She gave it more attention because it was the neatest thing in the room, but what kept her attention was one photo in particular.

She found herself walking over as she glanced at the rest of the mural briefly. Most of them were of Jax and his family when he was a kid, along with a few more from various club members when they were younger, including her. The photo in question was when she won her first game of pool against Bobby, who was grinning away in the background with a laughing Tig leaning against him for support. She was sitting on the table grinning broadly, showing off the 8-ball in full force as she stuck her tongue out for the camera. Gemma and Clay were clapping in the background, smiling at her with pride. Jax might have been the one to take the picture, but to honest she couldn't remember. She just remembered Bobby's groan when she sunk the 8-ball and the shouts of victory coming from around the clubhouse, including her Dad's. He rushed towards her and scooped her up in his arms and put her on his shoulders, chanting her name to loud applause.

She smiled at the memory. It was one of the few memories that weren't tainted by her Father's passing, and though she didn't understand why, she was thankful for it. Next to that one was a photo of her and Gear pigging out over takeout, the noodles hanging out of their mouths as they looked into the camera like "huh?" Even though it was only a few years ago, it felt like decades. Then one when she and Gear went camping. They were hugging, dancing near the roaring fire. Her head tilted up laughing at him, and he was smiling down at her in return. The last photo was in the same trip where they were sleeping on a cot. His arms wrapped protectively around her waist, her head tucked beneath his chin as they drunkenly slept the night away. Amanda was surprised because she didn't know someone had taken a picture of the pair dancing. She was even more surprised when she saw the picture of her sleeping on top of him.

She looked safe, protected, and free from harm, the first time she ever looked like the girl she used to be since she was taken.

As she thought about potential culprits the door opened and Gemma came in with a smirk.

"Don't worry, it's not revealing" she mocked as she threw the shirt to her. Amanda caught it with ease, and unfolded it to reveal a sight that unwittingly made her laugh. It was her old Black Sabbath t-shirt that Clay gave her for her 14th birthday, the only gift she was allowed to have that year because it was under Lachlan's orders. "The moment you catch her listening to shit rap or kid pop, educate her. My kid's not going to grow up listening to crap," was written on a birthday card attached to the shirt, along with a Black Sabbath CD and headphones. She didn't get the CD or headphones until a week later because of her _indiscretions_ towards her teachers.

"I haven't seen this shirt in forever," she marveled at it, wondering how it could have survived all these years.

"Not surprising since you left it at the house when you moved out."

"I left a lot of shit there, only place I feel safe having personal, nostalgic stuff."

"Good," Gemma nodded, pointing to the shirt, "put that on and let's get your arm patched up."

She did as ordered, carefully not letting the fabric touch her wound before heading out into the hallway with Gemma following close behind.

"So what did you and the Deputy talk about yesterday?"

"He found out I was the first responder that was attacked on scene, he just wanted to check on me and make sure I was okay. He didn't ask me about you guys, if that's what you're fishing for."

Gemma nodded, "you know what to do if he does?"

"Plead the fifth? Lawyer up? Describe a crazy weekend in Tijuana that now prevents me from recalling explosive events?" Amanda retorted sarcastically.

"No," Gemma responded by stepping in front her and forcing her to look at her, "you call us. When shit hits the fan, don't try to hide it and don't inform someone else first. When something happens to you, we are the first ones to know."

"Why? So you can keep tabs on me? So you can treat me like a piece of property that you store away and never have to worry about?"

"You're family, Amanda. You've always been family. It's the reason we took you in when Lachlan died and your Mom split. Not from guilt or priority, but because you're family, and there was no way we were going to let them take you away from us." Gemma glanced towards the open area where Chibs and Gear were waiting, "someday you're going to realize how wrong you are about us, and for your sake I hope it's soon."

With that lovely parting note, Gemma turned and walked towards the Sons. Amanda hesitated for a second, pondering Gemma's statement. She wasn't sure what to make of it, to believe it or toss it aside. There was one thing she knew to take seriously, and that was Gemma's unveiled warning. Next time Amanda' tried to hide something from her and the Sons; things were going to get ugly. How ugly? She didn't want to know.


	8. All she needs is a Halo

**Author's Note: Sorry it's been taking so long to get chapters out, school's kicking my ass and it's hard to get these chapters out and my assignments in. I'll try to get them out at a more frequent pace from now on. Enjoy!**

 **Gear**

It was crazy having Amanda back in the garage after all this time. It was even crazier to see her in the clubhouse, even if it was just to get stitched up. Gear knew it was hard for her being here, she kept glancing at Lachlan's mug shot on the back wall. Once or twice he thought about letting her into the "war room" as he liked to call it, but everyone else referred to is as church. He thought she might appreciate seeing where Lachlan sat, but decided against it when he got a closer look at her expression. She was trying to hold in her emotions, which made Gear both pissed off and very worried for her.

Once Chibs had her all stitched up, Gemma took her to the front office and had her do paperwork all day, which Gear knew must have sucked ass. Surprisingly, she was done within 30 minutes, filing it in an organized manner. Eventually Amanda was allowed to leave the office, and settled herself in the garage talking with Lowell, who blushed the entire time. That was how Amanda spent her day, talking with Lowell about his life, her life, and eventually about bikes and the proper way to fix them. Gear spent his day watching her from his post and trying to be inconspicuous about his eavesdropping.

Hale showed up an hour or so after she left the office. She had called him to let him know about her current situation and he said he could get her statement here at the clubhouse. Some of the members were not cool with Hale snooping around, Tig and Juice in particular, but Clay gave it the okay. Gear was okay with it too. Hale wasn't a bad guy, just a bit too idealistic for his own good. Gear understood that because he was the same way, or at least he was.

He and Amanda chatted at one of the tables by the clubhouse, and thankfully it wasn't a long conversation. It lasted a few minutes with Hale taking notes the entire time. Once they were done, he walked her back to the garage, glancing at all the members. He took a particularly long look at Gear, which both unnerved and confused him. Why was he suddenly singled out by the deputy? He figured he was about to find out when Hale changed direction and walked towards him with that self-righteous stride of his.

He glanced to see Amanda unaware of Hale's action as she sat down to talk to a blushing Lowell before Hale blocked his line of sight and said, "Where's Jax?"

"I don't know," Gear shrugged, setting down the wrench and grabbing the rag to wipe off the oil, "why do you ask?"

"It's about Amanda," he responded, glancing back to see her laughing with Lowell.

"What about her?"

"I need you guys to keep an eye on her."

"Why?"

"Are you going to or not?"

"Of course, now why are telling me to keep an eye on her?"

Hale didn't answer. He glanced back at Amanda before gesturing towards the office door where they would be out of her line of sight. Gear went willingly, suspicious yet curious in the same breath. He felt eyes on him as he walked with Hale, and he heard the distinct sound of a bike entering the compound when they stopped in front of the door.

"What's with all the secrecy?"

He sighed, "you know her friend, Bradley?"

"I've seen him, went camping with him once a few years ago. He was high as a kite and kept trying to jump my bones all night."

"Well, he was her partner until a couple hours ago when Darrow got him fired."

"What?!"

"Apparently, he's been stealing pain medication on the sly for a few months," Hale shrugged.

"Is it legit?"

"I'm looking into it. That woman is a piece of work. If there's any foul play, I'll sniff it out."

"Good," he sighed, "why are you telling me this?"

"Amanda's a good person. Bradley's not but she is, and she's been through all sorts of hell trying to do something with her life that's not involved with SAMCRO. I respect that, and I want to help her out, especially since she could have died from your bullets."

"Who said they were our bullets?" Gear responded in a calm tone, a tone that he knew Hale didn't miss.

Thankfully, the rider that arrived was Jax, and he chose the opportune time to make his presence known.

"What's going on here? A nice little pow wow between Deputy and outlaw?"

"It's about Amanda, Jax."

"What about her?" His amused tone quickly disappeared as Hale filled him in on Bradley's situation. "What do you want us to do?"

"Just keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't do anything that will force me to arrest her."

"Okay," Jax nodded, "thanks for reaching out."

"Don't get used to it, just trying to keep a good person out of trouble."

"I know, we appreciate it."

"Just remember this doesn't change anything, come tomorrow I'll get what I need to bring you guys down."

"Until tomorrow then," Gear walked past him, wearing a smirk on his face to hide the anger and fear welling up inside of him. It was his worst fear come true, the nightmare that floated to his eyes every time he thought about the burned girls. He thought she would be safe away from him, from this life, but even with all the distance she put between herself and SAMCRO she was still caught in the crossfire.

For the next hour or so Gear pondered what to do about this, about Amanda. When he wasn't watching her like a hawk, seething at her smile as she talked with Lowell about bikes, he tried to banish the awful thoughts that plagued his mind concerning her. All he wanted was for her to be safe, to be happy, to bask in the sun as it's light caressed her golden head and kissed her scarred skin, to smile without a care in the world, to not think about the tragedies of her past and just exist. He even wanted her to find someone that would cherish her with every fiber of their being like he did. There was a part of him that doubted anyone ever could, but if there was, he'd let her go with them if she chose.

Despite his efforts, Gear lost his battle of reigning in his temper when the thoughts of her dead with blood coating the ground around her slain body, her gray eyes dead to the world as a fly landed on her pupil, starting to sink in when his fist suddenly punched the wall next to him. He released a breath as his other fist attempted to do the same before, he stopped himself, his blunt nails digging into his palm as he turned away, taking deep breaths.

At some point during his fight with his thoughts, Gear must have wandered away from the garage because he now found himself in the alley behind the clubhouse, completely out of sight from everyone as the sun from high above beat down on him, blinding him as he looked up. He collapsed against the wall, sliding down the hot metal to sit on the burning gravel. He didn't mind the pain, it helped distract him from his inner turmoil. What was he going to do? What could he do?

"Hey," came a soft voice.

Gear looked up and quickly looked away at the sight of Amanda. Shame hit him in the chest. How stupid he must have looked sitting on the ground, losing his temper and punching a wall like his Dad used to. He hated himself for his loss of control. He didn't want to be like Michael, ever, and pulling this type of shit was the last thing he should be doing.

"I'm sorry," he groveled, staring at the gravel like a pathetic moron.

She didn't say anything, and for a second Gear convinced himself that she wasn't really there, just a torturous device his brain conjured up for his behavior. Instead, Amanda kneeled in front of him, and grabbed his hand. Shockwaves riddled his body when her skin touched his, and Gear's fantasies flooded his mind until, "You're going to want to clean that."

He looked at the hand she was holding and groaned at the sight of wet blood, dirt, and leftover oil covering the back of his hand.

"Looks like I'm not the only one getting patched up today," Amanda smirked, and Gear snorted, "at least you won't need any stitches."

"Good, I'm not in the mood to have someone poking me with needles today. Those fuckers suck," he grumbled as Amanda inspected his wound.

"Don't I know it." Her thumb touched his wound, testing to see how bad it was, "did Hale tell you about Bradley?"

He looked at her carefully, "yeah."

"Brad called the shop while you guys were talking," she shrugged with her good shoulder, still looking at his hand.

He nodded, "what are you going to do?"

"Who's asking? You, or Hale?" She started to pull away, but his hand rushed forward to gently grab her wrist.

"Both," and their eyes met then, and it was like looking into one of those sunsets Ponyboy described in that book, like she described only last night. Those big green eyes studied him as his thumb caressed the soft skin of her wrist, right where the vein slightly protruded, and her pulse was beating rapidly. The rapid speed meant one of two things, fear or lust. Normally Gear would happily jump on the lust train and dance with joy, but the way her eyes studied his face put a halt to his ever-present fantasies.

"I'm not sure," she whispered, loud enough so only Gear could hear.

He took a breath, "did Bradley do it?" He braced himself for her wrath at such a question, remembering her reaction to someone mocking him about his Dad when they were still in school. She grabbed the poor kid by his stringy hair and slammed him face first into the table with insults of her own. His parents had to take him to the hospital to get his jaw fixed, couldn't talk for like a month. She got suspended for a week and spent her weekends in detention until Christmas break, which Gear spent right alongside her with a smile on his face. Her reaction now surprised him.

"I don't know," she sighed, her eyes straying from his face, shaking her head, "Brad's had trouble with drugs in the past, you know that."

"Are you referring to the time he was high as a kite and tried to grope me on that camping trip a few years ago? The one where you ended up sharing a tent with me, so we didn't have to add rape to our list of morning regrets?"

"Or bring the trip to a screeching halt for an emergency room visit?"

"I wouldn't have hurt him that bad." Gear snorted, wanting her to look at him.

"I would have," Amanda smirked, eyes meeting his once more before the smirk quickly disappeared, blinking rapidly as the gravel suddenly caught her attention.

"You always did have a temper," Gear smiled, his thumb continuing to stroke her wrist, which she surprisingly allowed.

"Only with idiots who don't understand boundaries," she growled, staring down the alleyway as the full force of the sun hit her face. All she needed were wings and a halo, and she'd be the angel of his dreams. "Anyway, Brad's mostly kept away from that shit since his accident earlier this year."

"What happened?"

"He was totally methed out. He had just used up the last of his shit and went to score some more before the high went away. One thing led to another and he-" Amanda paused, biting her lip. Her expression was surprised, like she shocked herself by unveiling this information so willingly.

"He what?" Gear urged, his stare intense, fearing the worst.

She sighed, cursing under her breath before saying "Remember that accident earlier this year? The one where someone drove into the school building when the kids were being let out?"

"Yeah, couldn't walk outside without hearing about it. Unser got us involved after someone set the car on fire in the impound lot. Of course, we never did find-" his eyes popped open, "are you saying what I think you're saying?"

She grimaced, "he called me from the supply closet in the gym and told me what happened. Me and the guys got him out before the cops could find him."

"Jesus Amanda, he could have killed a classroom full of kids!"

"I know, and more importantly he knows that too." She turned to face him full on, weakly pulling her hand out of his grasp, but he held on tightly.

"You are the epitome of a Guardian Angel when kids are involved, why the fuck would you help a junkie when he almost killed dozens of them?!"

"He didn't though." When he looked incredulously at her, she sighed again. "When he told me, what happened I reacted the same way as you are right now. I was pissed beyond belief and worried for those kids, but he told me that he didn't hit anyone. Even drugged out of his mind he doesn't miss anything. So, after taking a breather I made him a deal. If any of those kids were hurt because of what he did, Hale and his officers would be opening the supply door and taking him to prison where he'll be buttfucked for the rest of his life. If they weren't, we would get him out and straight into rehab."

"You-" Gear almost choked on his words, "How did you even get him out of there?"

"Justin and Grady were already there pulling a double shift, so I called them up to get details. When they confirmed Brad didn't kill or hurt any of the kids, I had them distract Hale and the force, so I could slip in and get him out."

"You just snuck in and got him out?" Gear grated through his teeth, "what about the car?"

"Same thing. The guy at the front gate is a huge perv so I distracted him while Justin snuck in and destroyed any evidence Bradley left behind. Once he was done Grady came in and pretended to be a jealous douchebag while I swiped the security footage so that we were never there."

All sorts of thoughts raced through his mind as his thumb continued to caress the inside of her soft wrist, particularly the thought of Amanda seducing another man and how she would look if she were to seduce him. He shook his head. "What were you thinking? Even if he didn't hurt those kids he doesn't fucking deserve-"

"I'm not losing anyone else!" Amanda's raised voice had stunned him, but it was her surprising declaration that chilled him to the core as she quickly continued, "look I know I fucked up, but he's better now, Justin and I have made sure of that. We've been keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn't slip." She stopped suddenly, averting his eyes, "Fuck, I don't even know why I'm telling you any of this."

She stood suddenly, and Gear quickly followed, refusing to let go of her wrist. Once on his feet he didn't think, only acted as he abruptly pulled her into his arms. His free hand pressed into the small of her back and his forehead touched hers. She felt so good, so warm in his embrace that it took all his self-restraint to not move further into more tempting territories.

"What are you doing?" She weakly struggled in his arms, hampered by her injured shoulder.

"You never lost me," he said intensely, his grip on her wrist unyielding as he pulled away to look her in the eyes, "and you never will."

Her green eyes went wide as she stared at him, and she opened her those beautiful lips to respond when there someone loudly cleared their throat.

They pulled apart to see Gemma. Her stiff demeanor contrasted wildly with her pleased expression as she walked over to the pair with the sharp click of her heels sounding away on the pavement.

"Jax is asking for you," Gemma said, arms crossed as she stopped in front of the pair, "he needs you for something."

"Okay," he reluctantly released Amanda, but not before he gave one last squeeze to her wrist, his fingers trailing behind him as he walked away. When he turned the corner, he glanced back to see Amanda rolling her eyes at Gemma, her normal attitude back as her eyes met his. He stumbled at the sight of those green eyes, wanting her back in his arms.

His feet might have carried him out of sight, but his mind stayed with her and the plaguing thoughts of what she was going to say before Gemma's untimely arrival. He doubted it was her declaration of undying love that would stop his heart and send him to heaven despite his foolish hopes. In fact, he doubted anything that resembled any for form of positive response. His best guess was along the lines of either too stunned to speak, or something angry quickly followed by a right hook. He would have taken the punch whether she was injured or not.

He didn't look where he was going, too lost in his thoughts of her to pay much attention to his surroundings. In fact, he only found Jax when he literally ran into him, their heads bumping together with a huge thud.

"Shit, sorry Jax."

"You okay, bro?"

"Yeah, just distracted."

"Be surprised if you weren't," Jax laughed, swinging an arm across Gear's shoulders, "how is she doing?"

"Aside from racking up another war wound she's the same old Amanda."

"Yeah, I heard about that, what happened?"

Gear took a deep breath, "I told everyone she fell on a bottle and broke it, but really she cut herself on my window this morning." Gear stopped, turning to look Jax in the eye, "She woke up screaming her head off. I found her busting out my window with her elbow, looking like she was in Jigsaw's torture chamber instead of my bedroom. I had to fucking throw her to the floor just to snap her to her senses." His voice started choking up, and he looked around frantically to make sure no one was listening. "She looked so fucking scared, Jax."

Jax's eyes widened, his brow furrowed with worry. He took Gear by the shoulder and pulled him aside to the main office, taking a quick peek before saying, "No one else knows?"

"No, I couldn't do that to Amanda, but I can't just keep this to myself either. With the warehouse, her getting caught crossfire, how close she came to dying because of us…." he took a breath, "Jax what do I do? How do I do this"

"Not alone," Jax said with an intense authority, "and not right now. Right now, we need to keep our focus on the Mayans. They're the ones behind the explosion and what almost happened to Amanda." He paused, "remember what you were asking yesterday? Wondering how we didn't see this coming? It's because we've been too comfortable, to relaxed, so we must step our game up. We have to show them that they can't just fuck with us without some blowback. We have to give it back to them, you understand?"

"They blew up our warehouse…" Gear pondered, "So now we blow up theirs?"

Jax squeezed his shoulder, "Yeah brother, that's what we're going to do. Juice got the schematics and location of the warehouse we're going to hit tonight, and we need you with us."

"Is that why you talked to Opie yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't he leaning right though?"

"Doesn't matter, Clay wants him there, so he's got to be there." His eyes grew sad at the statement, and Gear knew what he was feeling. If things were different, and Jax was the one trying to lean right and earn straight, Gear would have that same look in his eyes. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

"When are we leaving?"

"When we close up," Jax looked behind Gear, "Gemma will keep an eye on Amanda until we're done."

"What about afterwards? You want me to take her back to my place?"

"Nah, stay at her place tonight. Take a look around and let us know if you find anything suspicious."

"Alright," Gear answered tiredly. Jax squeezed his shoulder again before stepping away, pulling a cigarette out of his cut. "You want one?"

"Pass," Gear shook his head, looking around the lot. "Why do you guys want me to look threw her stuff so badly?"

"Trammell called back with some info about an hour ago. The area around the warehouse was loaded with cowboy boot tracks, Mayans signature," Jax paused to take a drag from his cigarette, "but when they checked the area where Amanda's shooter must have been, they found a bunch of different tracks."

"What kind of tracks?"

"Tire tracks belonging to a truck, most likely older in style, and two pairs of footprints, military grade, no cowboy tracks."

"Someone else tried to kill her?"

"Looks like it. Doesn't make too much sense to hire someone to kill her when you're already blowing up a warehouse."

"Unless they didn't count on her being a paramedic who might respond to the call?" Gear's fists were clenching furiously, his teeth gnawing.

"Possibly, but in any case, there's a third party at play here and we need to keep our bases covered. That means keeping an eye on her and finding out what else she's been hiding that might have caused someone to try to kill her."

His eyes searched for her unconsciously after Jax's information, and sure enough they found her before he had a chance to stop them. Gemma walked with her towards the set of tables next to the clubhouse with a gentle arm wrapped around her waist. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line, her brow furrowed as the pair walked in sync. Whatever conversation they were having, Gear could tell Amanda was very uncomfortable with it. His body moved of its own accord, and if Jax hadn't reached out to stop him, he felt he would have catapulted himself between them, assuming the role of a stone barrier protecting her from anything and everyone, including Gemma.

"Give it a few minutes. She'll be done soon." He patted the back of his cut, "stay cool, brother. We'll protect her." Jax swaggered away towards the clubhouse, sending a little wave towards the two ladies. Gemma didn't see him, but Amanda did, and she returned his wave with a jerk of her head, refusing to look at Gemma.

Gear acquiesced to Jax's request and gave the pair time to finish up their conversation. It was hard to sit back, and watch Amanda become more and more restless as she talked with Gemma. Her fingers either drummed on the wooden panels or rubbed together furiously, the heels of her feet bouncing up and down in place from her sitting position on the bench. She always kept eye contact, an intense, narrowed stare full of suspicion but eye contact all the same. The more he stared the more his body mimicked her tics, particularly rubbing his fingers together like he had coins between them.

When the indention in her forehead became more pronounced, and her intense stare became an angry glare, Gear knew it was time to step in. He hurried over to the pair, trying not to listen to Amanda's words yet failing to block out her smooth, velvety voice.

"For the last time, Gear's not staying at my place tonight. In fact, no one from this club will ever stay the night in my apartment. Is that clear?"

"It doesn't matter what you say, or how you feel about this, it's done. Gear's staying with you and that's final. Clay's orders."

"Fuck his orders!" Amanda grated as she stood to her feet, "I'm not part of this club!"

"This is for your own good-"

"What? Having someone pretend to give two shits about my safety when really, it's an excuse to go through my shit and find out what else I might be hiding from your dickheads? Sounds more along the lines of invasion of privacy and breaking and entering." She suddenly pointed at Gear, who at this point was only steps away from the pair, "and just because you send him doesn't change that fact." She turned to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Gemma's heels thudded rampantly against the pavement as she raced to catch up with a fleeing Amanda. Gear reached out, grabbed Amanda's good arm, and pulled her to a stop.

"For fuck's sake," she complained, wincing slightly as she instinctually moved her shoulder. A pang burst through his chest, but it didn't stop him from pulling her back towards him, her chest gently bumping his.

"Gemma, would you mind giving us a moment alone? Please?" His breath was ragged, but his voice came out clear. He quickly glanced to see Gemma nodding slightly to him before giving Amanda one last glare. Gemma headed back towards the office while he carted Amanda back over to the tables. Once there she glared at him, and he stared back stubbornly, gesturing to the seat with his free hand until she sat down. Instead of taking the bench opposite her, he straddled the bench to sit next to her, and held her good hand.

"I know you hate this, having everyone make choices about your life and safety without consulting you and then expecting you to do it without complaint. I get it, and I'm sorry it's happening but you must know that we're only doing this because we care about you. If we didn't care, we wouldn't get involved."

"Sorting through my shit? That's how you guys show you care?"

"We're doing that because there's a chance that the Mayans had nothing to do with your shooting." Gear said before he could stop himself, he contemplated taking it back, but his statement caught her attention.

"What do you mean the Mayans-"

"Trammell and his men searched the area where the shooter must have been and didn't find cowboy boot tracks. What they found were two sets of footprints matching military grade boots."

"Military grade? Like army douchebags or something?"

"Or something," He roughly rubbed the back of his neck, "the point is there's a third player, and we don't know who it is. I don't know who it is and that puts us at a disadvantage. It could be some weird decision from the Mayans, a rogue asshole trying to make a name for himself, it could be a hit for all we know, and we don't have the faintest idea of where to start looking if it wasn't the Mayans." He took a deep breath to calm himself, looking deep into her wide, green eyes as he continued, "The point here is that we need to find out the three W's."

"What happened, who did it, and why did they do it?" Amanda interrupted with a strained voice.

"Yeah, and since we don't have many places to look-"

"And I came clean about hiding my career from you guys?"

"Makes it even more important to see what else you've been hiding," Gear let out a deep breath, "would you really have never told me?"

Amanda didn't miss a beat, exhaling in defeat as she looked away from him, "I don't know, Peter. It's been a really shitty few years."

"More like a shitty life if you add it all up," he grumbled, gently squeezing her hand. She glanced at them, and surprisingly didn't pull away.

"Yeah, I guess."

She didn't continue, and Gear debated on what to do when said, "What time will you guys be back?"

He momentarily looked at her stunned, "I don't know. Probably not until early morning."

She sighed before turning to look at him full on, "I'll let you come over, if you guys let me go home now."

"That's not up to me."

"Then go find Jax and ask for his blessing while I give Gemma the same deal. Fuck, I'll even add Bradley's shit to the mix." She abruptly stood from the bench, only to be pulled back down as gingerly as possible.

"Why do you hate this place? You used to love it."

"I don't hate this place, I just hate sitting around and not doing anything like a chump." She groaned, glancing at the garage, "I tried to convince Lowell to let me help work on the engines, almost had him too if Brad hadn't called. Clay got to him while I was on the phone and when I made it back, he clammed up and could barely form two-word sentences to me."

"Yeah, Clay can be a bit intimidating when he wants to be."

"Oh, I know, remember in eighth grade when Coach Henderson was being a total ass and made us run laps around the school because we showed up late for practice?"

"Was that when he was training both the girls and guys basketball teams-"

"At the same time because Coach Casey was in a car accident and out for a month." Amanda interrupted with a smile.

"Yeah, and he already didn't like me because he favored the rich kids and I called him out on it."

"He didn't care for me either but that's because I lived with _low life's_ and _depraved criminals_."

"Yeah, Clay certainly showed him." The pair laughed as they reminisced about Clay striding across the school parking lot with Tig and Bobby at his side. The look in his eyes was enough to make anyone stiff with fear, especially after yelling insults at the top of his lungs about being children of drunken criminals who were better off dead, then threatening to have them suspended for misconduct when said children fought back with insults of their own. Amanda had grabbed a rock and threw it at him when he started talking about her Dad. Coach Henderson reacted very poorly when that rock him in the head. He strode over, knocking Gear to the ground with a firm shove before grabbing hold of Amanda's flailing arms.

Clay saw the whole thing, showing up early to free them from practice early when it happened. Bobby corralled Gear and Amanda and took them away from the scene as Tig and Clay took Coach Henderson out of sight. He wasn't seen again for a few days, and both were convinced they offed the poor, bigoted dude when he suddenly showed up a few days later sporting a cast on his right hand and a fresh batch of bruises coloring his swollen face.

"I wonder if your boss and Henderson know each other?" Gear mused, unconsciously squeezing her hand as he studied her face.

She smiled, "that would make sense," suddenly she frowned, "I don't want to stay here, Peter."

He braced himself, "you can't avoid him forever, Manny. You'll have to face this pain eventually."

Her eyes met his then. A range of emotions flooded through the sea of emerald green as her jaw clenched and body froze. Before she had the chance to recover, he unwisely reached out and placed his calloused hand on the back of her neck, squeezing gingerly. His eyes never wavered as his voice shook.

"The longer you avoid the pain, the more it will eat you alive." Recognition flashed across her face as he continued, "you told me that, remember?"

She didn't respond. A muscle flickered in her jaw and he knew she was shutting down, fast. He knew when he saw her in the clubhouse that she hadn't dealt with her pain, merely avoided it. He knew he should force her to face it, the same way she forced him to deal with Michael's 5-year sentence in prison after nearly killing him for the fourth time.

Clay and Unser broke the news to him while he and Amanda were playing cards with Opie and Jax. Opie was winning. The dude had a surprisingly great poker face when it came to cards but cracked immensely when they heard the news. When Gear heard the news, he wanted to lash out, to break everything in sight. Michael kept getting off easy because of one bullshit mistake after another, and it almost broke Gear's last nerve. Almost. If there was one thing more powerful than his boiling fury, it was his stubborn promise to never be like him. Ever.

Instead of doing what he wanted, which is walk off and start breaking shit, he turned back towards Opie and Jax, "Who's folding?"

They looked at him shocked before glancing at their cards with a shake of their heads, acquiescing to his unspoken request. Amanda on the other hand was having none of that. Her response to his willful ignorance was pulling on the collar of his jacket until he looked at her, and then slapping him in the face. That's when she said those words, and her fury at his ignorance broke something in Gear that day. It broke his resolve, his stubborn hold on that naive promise he made to himself out of a childish fit of anger. In that moment he got up and did what he wanted, and the Sons gave him free reign to do so without complaint.

Her fury then rivaled his worry for her denial now. This wasn't Amanda, at least not the Amanda he knew. The last few years they've spent apart, isolating herself from the club did something to her. What it was he couldn't tell, but it had to be dealt with. The only question was when? Would it be better to push her now, like the way she pushed him then, and hope she snapped out of it like he did? Or was it better to wait it out, let her do it on her own time, her own terms, and hope she sees through it? Gear wasn't sure what the best choice was, but with a sigh he squeezed her neck gently before releasing her.

"I'll talk to Jax, see where he lands on it, but you have to promise me something."

The tension seemed to fade slightly from her jaw, "What?"

He wanted with all the world to say _pull your head out of your ass and marry me woman,_ or _run away to San Francisco with me,_ but instead he looked deep into her eyes, holding her free hand gently with both of his, "Promise me you'll start coming by more often, even after we figure this shit out with the Mayans. I don't mean dropping off friends to get their cars fixed or hide out from philandering douchebags, I mean stop by and come see us. We miss the shit out of you, Manny." He found himself pausing, swallowing nervously, "I miss you."

She didn't respond at first, her beautiful eyes studying him with careful scrutiny. Whatever she was looking for she didn't appear to have found because she sighed slightly, glancing away from his face briefly. "Can I work on the bikes?"

She said so softly, so timidly that he didn't quite catch it, "What?"

"If I decide to come around more often, can I work on the bikes, or whatever comes in?" She winced slightly as she attempted to shrug.

There was a slight pang in his chest that she didn't appear to reciprocate his unspoken, or perhaps spoken, feelings but it was squashed quickly when she slightly squeezed his hand. He kept his eyes locked on her face, not wanting to ruin the tiny gesture only to find out it was an accidental movement on her part.

The corner of his mouth perked slightly, "I can't promise everyone else's but I'll let you work on mine when things calm down. Deal?"

Her lips pursed slightly in concentration before she nodded, "Okay, deal."

He brought her hand to his lips, loving how impossibly went as he gently kissed the back of her hand.

"Stay here," he stood from the bench, grasping her good shoulder and letting his fingers trail behind him as he walked away. When he glanced back, she was staring at the ground with a look that made her seem like she just made a deal with the devil.

 **Please Review! I'd love to see your comments and opinions!**


	9. I Can't Help Falling Part 1

**Amanda**

It's been hours since Amanda was allowed to leave the garage and finally go to the apartment where her friends awaited with bated breath to check on her and see what was happening. Gear was true to his word and convinced Jax, who in turn convinced Clay, to let her go. The only caveat was Gemma had to stay with her until Gear was done with whatever the club was planning on doing tonight. She figured it was something along the lines of blowing up one of the Mayans warehouses, eye for an eye and all that jazz. She wasn't particularly surprised by their request, even prepared for it with a quick text to Justin to ransack the apartment as fast as they could. When they arrived she found that they did a pretty decent job of ridding the place of anything that Gemma would have found suspicious, which to be honest was nearly everything in the apartment.

The three bedroom apartment was smaller than expected, complete with an open kitchen and a bar that had been freshly cleaned of the plethora of empty liquor bottles, beer bottle caps, and red solo cups. The kitchen countertops, which contained the same white granite style as the bar, smelled of cleaning chemicals that filled the apartment, contrasting with the apple cider scented candles Bradley got from a _first day of fall_ sale last year, which were placed in random areas around the living room. The dark vinyl flooring extended throughout the entire apartment; the colorful, multi patterned rugs and carpets Bradley decorated the place with clashed wildly with the wood's dark undertones. The walls were a dull, grey that hung various pictures of the guy's personal interests.

Justin's awards from his military service, including his Purple Heart that almost cost him his leg and put an end to his military career, and his Silver Star hung side by side with the photographs of him receiving the award. They were placed at the far side of the apartment in a glass case above the TV, out of the way from any wild, drunken shenanigans that occurred. Grady's endless posters hanging all throughout the apartment that ranged from popular classic movies (Godfather, Pulp Fiction, Breakfast Club) to TV shows (OZ, Sopranos, The Wire) to his favorite artists/bands (Jimi Hendrix, Pearl Jam, Bob Marley) and finally a small section of personal photos of the group pinned to a corkboard next to the window.

Justin's room was in the far back to the right, Grady's on the left, and Bradley's straight ahead. Bradley's door was slightly ajar, and through the opening you could the entire color spectrum pop out and punch you in the face, and that was just from his Queen sized bed. Grady's room contained even more posters with a bedspread that had Al Pacino's face on his full sized bed. Justin's room was very militaristic, very tidy, and filled with an array of weapons with at least three knives hidden inside his twin bed. He kept a cot on hand whenever Amanda got tired of the couch, to which she had been using frequently as of late. The couch was lumpy, old, and green as can be, and looked just as cheap as it cost when they found it at the garage sale.

Amanda didn't have a room, and that was how she liked it. Since her kidnapping Amanda adopted the personality trait of _all I want is all I need_ which drove Bradley and Grady absolutely nuts, but Justin completely understood. Life was easier when you don't have many materialistic possessions, something that both Justin and Amanda understood. Easier to pack, easier to move, easier to run with the only possessions Amanda kept on her at all times that she kept in her worn out backpack from third grade, one of the last things her father got her before his death. It had been so long since she looked inside of it that she couldn't remember what was in it, but whenever she planned a trip it was always within reach.

The apartment was normally a pigsty, much to Justin's detriment. He looked particularly frazzled, yet relieved when she and Gemma walked through the door, and Amanda knew it had something to do with finally cleaning the place up. Grady and Bradley looked worse for wear, and she smiled at the thought of Justin going into Marine mode and making them clean up their mess and all the shit that Gemma would flip a bitch over if she saw them.

Justin greeted the ladies in his usual brusque manner, simply nodding to the pair as Amanda introduced him. Grady sent Gemma a flirty smile and winked at her. Bradley waved flamboyantly before gesturing towards the bar and offered to make drinks. When Gemma accepted Bradley's offer Amanda departed to take a much needed shower, and Gemma's eyes followed her all the way to bathroom, which was to the left of Grady's room.

She didn't take long, though it was longer than usual since her shoulder was slightly messed up, and within a few minutes she exited the room wrapped in one of Grady's towels and headed to the laundry closet to the right of Justin's room. She walked to the black basket that held her clean clothes, and quickly rifled through them. Within a few minutes she had exited the room wearing one of her many black sports bras and matching underwear, worn out to shit black sweatpants, and one of Grady's knockoff Pearl Jam shirts that didn't fit him anymore.

She came back to find that no one had died, which was good, and Gemma was being friendly, which was also good but also not so good. Amanda wasn't sure whether she was making an honest effort to be nice to her friends, or scheming as she normally did. All the same, Amanda couldn't do anything about it except roll with it, and hope it didn't transpire into anything.

During the course of the next few hours Gemma got to know the guys fairly well, and from what Amanda could see the only one she remotely approved of was Justin, which was not surprising. For one, he didn't consistently flirt with her like Grady did, he didn't make crude jokes and slowly get plastered in front of her, and he didn't ignore her to work on bills and unnecessarily inventory their first aid kits and supplies until dinner time. Justin baked some premade lasagna for dinner, and it was gone within minutes as the guys scarf it down.

Normally Amanda would take whatever was left and eat some salad or whatever veggie-like food they had in the place, but Gemma would have none of that. When she saw the guys taking huge portions and practically throwing them onto their plates while Amanda dug into the fridge for the last of the baby carrots, she almost went ballistic. She had grabbed each of them by their ears and forced them to put down their plates, then told Amanda to grab whichever plate she wanted. Other than arguing with her, she moved to grab Grady's plate and murmured, "we'll split it" to Gemma before heading over to the lumpy couch.

Aside from a few comments about how it's no wonder she could see her ribs, Gemma and the four paramedics sat mostly in silence while they watched the news and ate their food. A few times Gemma tried to talk to Amanda, but she only responded with non-committal answers that clearly frustrated Gemma and amused Grady.

"I like a woman with a temper," he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and Justin slapped him before Amanda had the chance too. Grady didn't learn from that as he kept flirting with Gemma throughout the evening without showing any signs of stopping, until a knock sounded on the front door.

By that point they had abandoned the news and were watching reruns of Survivor when their guest decided to arrive. Gemma left to get the door, and during her absence Amanda slapped Grady on the head.

"Ow!" He complained as she kneeled on the floor next to him.

"What the fuck dude!" She whispered angrily to him, unable to stop herself when she slapped him again.

"Jesus, lay off crazy lady!"

"Oh, I'm the crazy one? I'm not the one flirting with the old lady of the most dangerous man in town who's also the president of the local motorcycle club/gun running business."

He paused, his eyes squinting in confusion, "I thought they dealt drugs?"

She glared at him, "If that were true I would have left Charming for good the moment I got my 1979 jeep CJ up and running and out of the junkyard I found it rusting in."

"What?" His hand went through his sandy curls, "you mean that old, beat up death trap the landlord lets you keep in the back alley?"

"Don't make me slap you again," she threatened.

His brown eyes held a certain gleam as he smirked mischievously, "I can't help it, Hershey. I like angry women hitting me, I'm kinky that way." His gaze flickered down, his smirk turning into a smile. "I'd let you hit me any time you want."

Amanda didn't have time to respond to that for two reasons. One, Justin reached out to grab the back of Grady's collar to pull him to his feet, his face full of restrained fury. Two, Gemma had returned with a confused, flustered expression.

"Your landlord is here, he says he needs to talk to you."

Amanda sighed, gingerly standing up and heading towards the door. Justin dragged a mildly struggling Grady who winked at her as he was dragged into his room.

Amanda's landlord was normally a fair, quiet man until you got on his bad side. He was short, squat, and overweight. His long beard was woven together in a long braid that rested against his chest. When she opened the door it was to find him breathing heavily and leaning against the railing for support. Based on his current state he opted to take the stairs instead of the elevator, which means the elevator was broken again. Aside from his fatigued state, he had an angry look about him, and Amanda was not prepared to deal with his wrath.

"Hey Joe, what's up?"

He turned to face her full on. His typical outfit of sweatpants and gaming t-shirts rang true tonight with Kingdom Hearts and matching grey pants. "Burke, you and your cronies haven't paid rent in the last 3 months."

Amanda reared back, "What do you mean it hasn't been paid? I put the money in your box, just like I do every month."

"Well I don't know what to tell you. I've checked my box, everyone else's money is there, and yours isn't." He wheezed, attempting to stand up straight and look her in the eye. One of his hands went to his chest while the other dabbed his head with a gross looking handkerchief.

"Why didn't you come and tell me this sooner?"

"I've tried. You're either at work, passed out, or flat out gone."

"What about Justin?"

"Same with him. I ended up telling your gay friend and surfer boy last month."

"And what did you tell them?"

"Told them to either pay or start packing. Surfer Boy laughed and slammed the door in my face."

Amanda groaned. Her free hand ran through her hair as she started pacing. "Are you sure the money wasn't there?"

"Positive." He got some of his breath back, exhaling sharply, "I'm sorry, but if you miss the next payment, I got to boot you guys. There's a group of college kids looking to rent and they're willing to pay more for the apartment. If you don't fix this soon, I'm going to have to evict you."

Amanda stared at him speechless as he aimed towards the staircase. "In the meantime you should ask your friends what happened to the money. I'd bet my PlayStation 3 and Kingdom Hearts that at least one of them knows something about it."

As Joe waddled his way downstairs Amanda was very tempted to stop him and have a few more words with him, but she didn't. She knew Joe wasn't a thief, and he was too cowardly to lie to her. The only thing she suspected of him lying to her about was him giving them previous notice of missed payments. More than likely he was hoping it was a fluke and waited to see if it would happen again, and preceded to repeat this action the second time, but he couldn't ignore the third, hence this odd nightly visit.

No, Amanda knew it wasn't Joe being sketchy, and while she hated to admit it she knew Grady or Bradley had something to do with it. She sighed, stretching out her back before heading back inside. With a final look at the last day of sunlight kissing the darkening sky, she opened the door.

Bradley was sitting on the floor, drunkenly leaning on the edge of the couch with his arms outstretched on the awful green cushions. Raised voices were coming from the bedrooms, Justin's voice in particular. He must have been ripping Grady a new one, and Amanda smirked at the thought. Meanwhile, Gemma was nowhere to be found.

"Where's Gemma?" Amanda asked, trying not worry.

"Went to use the bathroom," Bradley slurred, taking another drink of whatever concoction he made, his smile huge. "Who was at the door?"

"Joe. He just informed me that we've missed the last 3 rent payments." She walked over to Bradley, who suddenly went stiff. "Would you know anything about that?"

He had a sober look on his face when he glanced at her, and she saw the debate that flashed through his eyes. She waited, trying not to glare at him. Whatever debate he was having, apparently she won because he looked back to the TV, raising his cup to his lips. "You'll have to talk to Grady, it's his fault."

"Why is it his fault?" She struggled to maintain a steady breath, briefly closing her eyes.

"Like I said, you'll have to talk to him, after Justin is done reaming his ass that is." He gestured towards the bedrooms with his cup, and Amanda took a deep breath before abruptly turning away from him.

Her intention was to knock down the door and demand answers out of Grady with Justin acting as her pissed off Marine buffer. What happened was she bumped into Gemma with her bad shoulder and almost fell to the floor with the sudden shock of pain that jerked through her body.

"Oh shit!" Gemma grabbed Amanda's good arm, steadying her as her brow furrowed with concern, "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Amanda gritted, her body stiff as a board as the pain slowly faded, "just need to talk to Grady about something." There was a sudden crash coming from Grady's room, then men's voices arguing with each other. The drywall muffled their words to the point they were indistinguishable, but the sharp edge they carried made it clear how bad the conversation had gotten. Soon enough there'd be loud thuds and yelps of pain.

"Oh no you're not," Gemma started dragging her away. She went willingly for the most part.

"I can handle myself."

"Not with your shoulder like that you can't," they were back at the bar at this point. Gemma turned to look at her full on, "have you taken any of your pain meds?"

"I don't need them." Amanda responded curtly, and then regretted it instantly. She knew once the words came out that Gemma was going to make her regret them. Sure enough, once she responded, Gemma tapped her bad shoulder with a glare, and the pain shot through her system again as her knees threatened to buckle.

"Sure you don't?"

"It only hurts when I bump it or move it in a weird direction. For the most part it's fine-"

"Do you want to get back to your job?" Gemma interrupted, her hands going to her hips.

"Yes," she said in a matter of fact tone.

"When do you want to get back?"

"Is this a rhetorical question?"

"No, now answer it." Her glare intensified.

"As soon as I can-"

"So explain to me how you're going to get back and do your job as soon as possible when you're ignoring your doctor's orders that were given to help you?"

Amanda's mouth popped open, sighing as she looked away from Gemma and rubbed her face. "I don't know what to tell you."

"I certainly know what to tell you." Gemma reached into her purse next to Amanda, rummaged through it for a few seconds before pulling out not one but two orange pill bottles, both filled to the brim with big, fat pills. She held them in her right hand, showing them to her.

"Where'd you get those?" Her mouth suddenly became very stiff.

"Your friend, Justin I believe, gave them to Clay yesterday after he fixed your shoulder."

"And Clay gave them to you before he let me leave?"

"Yes." She slammed them down on the bar, eyes never straying from her. "Now are you going to take these, or am I going to have to force you?"

"I'll take the antibiotics but I'm not taking to pain meds again."

"Why?"

Amanda didn't answer at first, glancing behind her to look at Bradley. He wasn't paying attention to them; his sole focus was on the elimination vote on the latest Survivor episode. She sighed, stepping closer to Gemma, speaking softly, "I don't want to take them, okay? Can we just leave it at that?"

Gemma glanced towards Bradley as well, her brow easing as her eyes squinted, "he a junkie?"

Amanda didn't answer at first, mentally kicking herself for looking at Bradley in the first place. Eventually she sighed, knowing that no answer was an answer anyway with the only difference being an even more pissed off Gemma. She took a deep breath, and attempted to steer the conversation another way.

"How long are you stuck here anyway?"

Gemma's glare returned in full force. She took a breath to calm herself before answering, "I'm with you until Gear gets here."

"Any news on Abel?" Amanda asked more earnestly.

Gemma's expression softened, "No."

"He'll be okay; Tara won't let anything happen to him. She's a great surgeon."

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Her eyes squinted at Amanda, and she sighed.

"I'm sorry for not telling you, I just wanted to have something that was for me."

Gemma studied Amanda for a long, quiet moment. Amanda studied Gemma back. It was hard to look past Gemma's poker face when she wasn't pissed or worried, but she could see the slight crease in her forehead and the firm set of her mouth that made her believe Gemma was truly contemplating. What she was contemplating she couldn't tell, but figured she would soon find out when Gemma straightened her back.

"Okay," she said with a slight nod.

"Okay?"

"Okay," she shrugged slightly, and Amanda immediately grew suspicious.

"What are you up too?" Amanda asked when one of the bedroom doors suddenly burst open. She turned to see Justin charging down the hallway with his phone pressed to his ear. His face was red, which meant he was beyond angry, and the way he gripped his pen and ripped the piece of paper off the yellow notepad and practically threw it at her before heading back to the bedroom gave Amanda the impression he was not in the mood to be questioned.

She grabbed the paper before it hit the ground, studying it briefly before abruptly turning back to Gemma with wide eyes. "It's Abel."

 **Gear**

 _Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out._ Gear chanted his mantra as he sat in the moving truck amidst his active brothers. Everyone was excited, shouting at the top of their lungs as they gave and received punches and shoves of affection. Gear was not as happy or excited as the group. Only Jax shared his distaste and sentiment of their actions as they sat on opposite ends of the van, pondering their night's work.

He kept his eyes on the road as he drove the boisterous horde back to Charming, back home. Scenes from the night played out before his eyes as laughter and excitement filled the compartment. Gear wished he could join their unanimous delight, he really did, but after tonight he just didn't feel up to it anymore.

At first he was nervous, he'd been on runs before, roughed up a few unsavory problems more than once, and even blew up a car or two to help get rid of evidence of the Sons activities. Something about tonight wasn't right though. It felt off, like their simple revenge plan was doomed to go wrong, and Gear couldn't shake that feeling no matter how hard he tried.

It all started when Jax finally joined them after leaving to retrieve Opie. Problem is he showed up alone with Opie's bag of destructive goodies instead. Apparently he had to take his kid to the hospital, which didn't really fly with Gear. Something else was at play here, he could feel it in his bones, but didn't dare call Jax on it in front of Clay. Whatever the truth, Jax would tell him, Gear knew that.

Clay on the other hand didn't looked convinced, but when Jax said, "It's all good, brother" he sent them all off on their mission. That was when his nervous feeling started to get to him. Clouding his thoughts and rifling through awful images to remind him how badly tonight could go

should they fuck up in any way, shape or form. Gear spent the ride pushing those thoughts away, attempting to focus on the plan ahead of them.

When they went to park their bikes and grab the van waiting for them a few miles away from the Mayans warehouse, the nervous feeling had built into a panic that made his muscles tremble. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to think he was some pussy after all the hard work he'd put into getting his patch. This wasn't his first rodeo, and if people died tonight, it wouldn't be the first time someone died at his own hands. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, his first kill that pushed the Sons over the edge and voted him in as a brother.

The guy wasn't anyone special, just some douchebag selling drugs around Charming. He was one of Darby's guys actually. Gear could barely remember what he looked like, but he remembered with almost perfectly clarity how the fucker ran away before Gear put two bullets into his spinal cord. Juice was there with him, along with Tig who pulled the short straw to babysit the pair, and they helped Gear hide the body until nightfall before he came back to bury him outside of Charming.

The way he handled the situation, all calm and collected like it was 100th kill instead of his first, made Tig vouch for him to both Jax and Clay. Gear was always sure of Jax's vote, Hell even Bobby and Chibs', but Tig and Clay were mysteries to him. He'll always be grateful to Tig for doing that, for trusting him, and for finally seeing him as a brother, not just Amanda's friend who happened to be reliable. Amanda, his thoughts always came back to her, whether he was sitting down and eating soup or in the midst of a gun fight that could have easily taken Jax's life.

That's what happened though. When they made it to the warehouse and snuck in, Jax had trouble setting up the bomb. He tried to call Opie the Mayans suddenly arrived. Chibs and a few others were off scouting the perimeter so they couldn't help. It was just him and Jax hiding behind a dumpster while Clay and Tig hid behind a few trash cans on the other side of the alley as the members walked up the ramp. Jax and Clay shared a few words that Gear didn't pay attention too, his focus solely on the incoming threat.

Out of the corner of his eye Jax grabbed a blanket and cloaked himself with it before stumbling forward, singing a drunken tune. Clay readied his gun, and Gear followed suit, knowing shit was about to go down. Sure enough, when he was close, Jax threw off the blanket and started shooting, catching the guys off guard and throwing them to the ground. Clay and Tig followed suit, shooting up a storm as Gear raced in to grab Jax and push him out of the way.

"You good?" Gear asked as the last man fell to the ground with a loud, pained grunt.

"Yeah!" Jax nodded, patting Gear's shoulder as he looked around at the fallen bodies with a darkened expression. Clay and Tig approached, checking on the pair of them. Both guns were out, pointing at a man kneeling a few feet away from them, folding over in pain. Clay walked over to Jax. Gear moved out of the way to give them space, turning away to survey the area for any other threats.

"Finish him," Clay growled, and Gear felt his stomach tighten for Jax. It's one thing to kill in self defense, it's a whole other thing to kill an unarmed man who couldn't hurt you, couldn't stop you if he tried. Gear could only imagine how hard that struggle must be for Jax. He'd only ever killed in self defense, or in the heat of the moment during a chase of some sort. This was something else, and Gear hoped he'd never have to experience it. He didn't dare look back at Jax. Jax didn't need the extra weight of another pair of eyes watching him face this difficult choice.

A flicker of movement caught Gear's eye down the alley, "Look out!" he shouted as a man stepped out from behind a dumpster, aiming his gun towards them. Gear fired three shots before the mystery man could pull the trigger, the loud bangs echoing in the air. He fell down like a stack of bricks, his gun hitting the pavement with a loud crack as he started moaning in pain. Gear kept his gun trained on him, mostly to keep his hands from shaking so badly at the sight of blood spilling out of him.

"You guys okay?" He asked shakily, mentally kicking himself for speaking.

"We're fine," Clay's low timbre assured him, suddenly clapping Gear on the shoulder, "You got the drop on him. You did well."

Clay put his hand on Gear's grip and gently pushed it down. Gear released a long, deep breath as he finally lowered the gun.

He backed away slowly, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves as Clay murmured something to Jax. He didn't catch his message, but his tone was clear despite the softness of his volume. He must have been telling Jax to finish Gear's work, to kill an already dying man. He took another breath, fighting to squash the dread welling up inside his chest, clawing his way to his throat.

He turned away when he saw Jax raise his gun towards the dying man, placing his own gun in the back of his waistband. He took a few more breaths to steady his resolve when he heard Chibs in the distance, running towards them with a panicked look on his scarred face.

"Sweet Mary, Mother of Joseph! I'm gone five minutes and look what happened!"

"It's why we need you brother," Gear patted Chibs on the shoulder as he passed by, refusing to look behind him.

"Oh Jesus Christ" Chibs complained as he saw what was behind him.

Jax said something to Clay that Gear didn't catch, and it wasn't until Jax walked passed him with a quick nod that Gear looked behind him.

The guy was dead, no surprise there, but Jax didn't shoot him either Gear would have heard the shot which meant only one thing. Jax let the guy die on his own. He exhaled roughly; relieved Jax didn't cross that line between self defense and cold blooded murder. Now that he was looking at him, the body, he noticed something familiar about his face.

With a cold rush recognition, he realized that he knew this guy.

"Clay, is that-"

"Darby's guy," Tig interrupted, spitting on the body in disgust.

"Darby's guy?" Chibs turned his confusion to Jax, who looked just as confused as Chibs was.

"Looks like Darby made some friends in Chino after all." Clay turned to Tig, "get rid of him."

They ended up throwing the bodies into the truck they arrived in while Jax finished setting up the bomb that was crudely stuck in Darby's guy, Whistler Gear believed. They ran off as the place exploded and went up in flames.

Gear thought about the warehouse explosion and wondered what Amanda felt when she saw it. Did she feel the heat of the flames on her skin, the terror at the close proximity she must have been, how close death was to courting her and taking her away from this world? Was she even affected by this at all?

 _Breathe in; breathe out_ he thought as he put them into motion. Out of all the things that went absolutely wrong, the one thing that truly sent him into a near panic was the thought of what Amanda went through. He shook his head, sighing with relief at the sight of their bikes at the parking garage where they ditched them.

Once the van was parked he pulled out his cell and called Gemma, somehow knowing Amanda wouldn't answer for a various amount of reasons. One being she probably didn't have her phone on her or it was dead. Another being she was pissed beyond belief at him and didn't want to talk to him which wouldn't be surprising since Gemma was with her. Either way it was easier to get a hold of Gemma, she knew better than to be without it.

The phone rang three times before someone answered, "Yeah?"

That wasn't Gemma's voice, "Who is this?"

"I should ask you the same," the man's voice taunted, "You're the one calling."

"How did you get this phone?" Gear pushed open the door with more force than was necessary, so hard the hinges made a weird popping sound before it rebounded and hit him in the shoulder as he was standing from his seat.

"How did you get such a bad attitude?" The man laughed, "Maybe if you asked me nicely I would tell you."

His voice was arrogant, slimy even, and Gear wasn't having it, "I'm giving you one last chance to tell me who you are, and why you have Gemma Teller's phone."

He laughed, "Typical biker, no fun at all-" there was a scuffle on the other end. Gear heard pained complaints such as _dude what the hell,_ and _motherfucker that hurts_ with swift thuds and another voice in the background yelling indistinguishable words.

After a brief moment of silence, another man answered. His voice scratchy and stern, "Sorry about that, Grady's a prick who doesn't know when to quit."

 _Grady_ , Gear made a mental note to remember that, "who is this and why do you have Gemma's phone?"

"It's Justin, Justin Corwin if you wanted specifics. Gemma left her phone here when she and Amanda left for the hospital about an hour ago."

"Hospital," Gear repeated, "why did they go to the hospital?"

"There was a slight complication with Abel's surgery. They went to go check it out, see what's going on."

"Is he okay?"

"I don't know. Amanda's phone is busted so I haven't been able to get a hold of them. One of the nurses, Peggy, called and told me about the complication but I haven't been able to get a hold of her again so I don't know whether that's a good sign or bad."

"So they're at the hospital?"

"As far as I know, once I told Amanda about Abel the pair bolted."

"Okay, thanks Justin." Gear searched for Jax wildly, running towards him once he spotted him.

"Anytime man and hey I'm sorry about Grady. I wish I could say it won't happen again but I'm not into false promises."

"I appreciate that," he was almost upon Jax, "Thanks again!"

He ended the call before Justin could answer. Jax was talking with Clay, and though Gear normally would be more mindful and wait for the pair to finish considering tonight's events. However, with news of Abel and newfound irritation from Grady, Gear wasn't as mindful tonight.

"Jax," he interrupted what appeared to be a tense conversation based on the stressed looks on their faces.

"What is it?"

"Gemma and Amanda are at the hospital, there was some complication with Abel's surgery."

"Is he okay?" He stepped forward with wide eyes.

"I don't know, they didn't say." Gear hedged, not wanting to get into the whole phone debacle right now.

"Both of you head on over, we'll see you tomorrow." Clay pushed passed them, patting Gear on the shoulder while leaving Jax in the dust.

Jax didn't miss it, but showed zero signs of caring as he headed towards the bikes. "C'mon," he mumbled, and Gear followed.

The ride back to Charming almost felt liberating now that Gear was back on his bike. For the tiniest of moments he understood the elation and amusement of his brothers as they returned from blowing up the warehouse. Another threat eliminated, for the night at least. They got their guns back, stuck it to the Mayans, and none of them got hurt. Gear wanted to bask in their victories, but he knew how small and meaningless they were in the wider spectrum.

The mission was solid, even with the minor setbacks. It was because of those setbacks that Darby's connection to the Mayans was revealed and opened a whole new set of problems. The extent of those problems Gear could only guess, but when those problems hit he could only hope he was prepared for them.

They arrived in Charming in record time, the pair breaking a dozen traffic laws on their way back. The pulled into the hospital parking lot with ease taking the spots next to each other. Gear practically threw his helmet into his bag compartment as he started to run towards the hospital. He stopped when he suspiciously felt alone.

He turned and saw Jax standing next to his bike with his hands in his pockets, facing towards the road and his back towards Gear.

"What's up man?" Gear asked, taking a deep breath before walking towards him. Something was up, and jumped up nerves was not going help Jax with whatever he's going through.

He didn't answer at first. He closed his eyes and wiped at his face quickly. Not to wipe away tears, more of like a nervous tick kind of thing. He exhaled a long, deep breath like he was ridding himself of bad juju or something.

"I don't know how to do this man," he spoke softly.

"Do what?" Gear asked in an equally soft tone. "Be a dad?"

"It's not just that," he shook his head, turning towards him. "All of this. With Abel and his future, the club and all the bullshit that comes with it. Two opposing forces, two different lives I'll have to live and I don't know how to make them work. How can I be a dad when I'm organizing gun runs and blowing up warehouses?"

"How did your old man do it?" Gear said without warning.

He tried to take it back when Jax answered, "I don't know, he died before I really got to know him. Mom was a soldier though, and Clay did his best."

"Well that's got to be it."

"What do you mean?"

"Gemma got through it because she had help."

"She had the club-" Jax was saying hen Gear bravely stepped forward, interrupting him.

"So did I, well I had Amanda who had the club but it's not really about the club. It's about having people to depend on for help. People within the club or out of the club like Amanda and Tara, or Gemma and Chibs. Whether the people you seek for help are in either world is based on what you want for Abel when he's grown up."

"What would you want?" Jax asked, surprising Gear.

"What do you mean?"

"If Abel was your kid, if you were in my position, what would you want for him?"

He thought about it, "If Abel was my kid; I would want him to have as many opportunities as all the other kids. I'd want for him to be set, to not have to worry about anything." He paused, looking at ground briefly before returning to Jax's pleading gaze, "but in all honesty I would go to Amanda and ask her what I should do because despite everything that happened to her and her family she remembers what it's like to have a good dad while I've got nothing but alcoholic rage and broken bones to reflect on."

Jax slowly smiled, "Lachlan could definitely be a boozehound when given the chance."

"Yeah, but not like Michael."

He frowned, "yeah, nothing like Michael."

"You think she still remembers him?"

"Yeah, if she didn't she wouldn't have looked so uncomfortable and borderline tortured this morning."

"She really looked like that?" Jax stepped forward slightly, his brows furrowing with concern.

Gear nodded, "it wasn't as bad after she changed bandages and switched shirts, but once she was outside she didn't go back in."

Jax's face darkened, "You think she remembers what really happened?"

That struck a chord with Gear; he knew what Jax was referring too. "No, I don't think she does."

"Do you think she will?"

Gear shook his head roughly, "No."

"If she finds out her Dad didn't die in a car accident-"

"The only way she'll find out what really happened to her Dad is if one of us tells her. Know anyone that's thinking about blabbing?"

He took a breath, "You've had trouble keeping secrets from her in the past-"

"Yeah because she's my best friend and I don't want to lie to her, but when it's something that will hurt her if I tell her than I have no problems hiding the truth from her."

"Even this?"

"Especially this," Gear stepped forward, staring Jax down.

He nodded slightly, "Okay." He placed a hand on Gear's shoulder, "I got you brother."

Gear took a breath, "I know."

"That secret weighs heavy on all of us. No one wants to break Amanda apart."

"I know" Gear repeated softly, nodding slightly.

Jax smiled, "and don't kid yourself man, she's way more than a best friend to you and you know it."

Gear barked out a laugh, "If only she'd say yes."

Jax pulled him in for a hug, "I know brother," he laughed as they patted each other's back. "Let's head inside."

"Are you going to be okay, Jax?" Gear asked as they pulled apart and headed towards the hospital.

"Yeah, thanks man." He responded without looking at him.

Gear trailed behind Jax as they marched into the hospital. He tried not to think about their conversation, particularly about Lachlan and his stupidly happy face. He tried not to think about Amanda even though he was on his way to see her. He tried to not think about a lot of things.  
As always, the only thing that could ever put a stop to his racing, pestering thoughts was the sight of those green eyes staring back at him.


End file.
